


Seeking A(n) [Happy] Ending

by OoOMagnoliaOoO



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Awkward Sexual Situations, But Not Too Seriously, Crack Treated Seriously, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Crack, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rated E for later chapters, Rated For Violence, Sarcasm, Smut in chapter 8, The Salt Is Strong With This One, The sass is real, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OoOMagnoliaOoO/pseuds/OoOMagnoliaOoO
Summary: Rey would give anything to just forget that there’s a broken world outside.Or: Happy-go-lucky, slightly reckless, highly cynical Rey meets stingy, cautious, control-freak Ben at the end of the world.Awkwardness, smut, reality-checks, and hilarity ensues.





	1. Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Just my awkward attempt at writing another zombie story for the Star Wars fandom this time. Don’t take this too seriously, it’s not your taxes. 
> 
> Thank you in advance for reading my contribution to the trash-pile (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

“Fuck.” 

They’re out of vodka. 

More accurately,  _ she’s  _ out of Vodka. 

One would think that something without an expiration date would be in-stock. 

Huge fucking spoiler: It’s not. 

In a pinch, tequila would do. Wine gives her a headache. 

_ Aaaand, fuck _ . They’re out of tequila, too. 

“Fucking doomsday preppers.” 

When the first news of infection, fevers and Ebola-like symptoms started filling the late-night news no one batted an eye-lid expect for the tin-foil-hats and the government officials. Rey should have known that something was afoot when all the teachers had left the college grounds. 

But fuck that, she’d thought. She wasn’t going to leave just because all the pussies did. Rey wasn’t a follower. 

She wasn’t a leader for that matter either, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Rey was just a student in her freshman year of college, with a full ride to M.I.T. 

She’d been studying- sleeping on top of her books- for the mid-terms when the banging had disturbed- woken- her. 

At first, she’d assumed that her next-door neighbors- 21A and 21B- were screwing again. The pattern was always the same. Every two weeks he’d cheat, she’d throw shit at him; cursing the day he’d been born, he’d leave, and a week later she’d take him back and they would fuck like rabbits. 

Rey unscrews the cork on a bottle of whiskey, sniffs, and shrugs before downing a good ten chugs. 

She shudders at the after-taste. 

One thing she misses is running water.  _ Hot  _ running water to be precise. It’s been ten weeks since she’d broken into the sheriff's department- Thank God for the generator- and had a shower. 

Until the stupid thing crapped out on her a few days later. 

She’d been forced to go back to a bucket and river-water. 

Rey inhales a noseful of her  _ Panic! At the disco  _ t-shirt- Finn had given her that one for her birthday two years ago- and recoils in disgust. 

So hey, she’d never been good at doing laundry. It’s not like it matter now anyway. Besides… she’s not the most foul-smelling thing out there. 

Her eyes wander around the convenience store and she’s forced to face reality. She’s eaten and drank her way through the entire stock in just under two months. Nothing but rotten meat and stale, old crackers left. 

She grabs a packet of  _ Digestive  _ on her way out, just because she can. It’s not like anyone else will want it. 

She’s all alone. 

_ No. No more tears.  _

Rey had cried enough when she’d watched Finn get bitten two days into the end of the world. He’d died and come back so fast that his girlfriend Rose hadn’t even realized what was going on. 

Rose had been next in line to die. 

Poe and she had traveled alone after that. Two weeks later she’d found him roaming the streets; rotten and teeth filled with flesh. 

She’d met people along the way, sure, but none that she got particularly attached to. 

A concert pianist that- ironically enough- got killed by a falling piano. The hair-dresser who fell into a man-made pit just outside of Arlington. Sarah, who’d traveled with her sister Sandra, kicked the bucket from a common cold, not twenty miles from here. Her ten-year-old sister got snatched by one of the runners an hour later. 

The banker, the teacher, the assistant, the CEO, the construction-worker; all of them dead before Rey could really begin to like them. 

_ Just as well… people get you killed.  _

It’s not that they do it on purpose. People are just  _ stupid _ . 

That’s when the drinking had started. A way of escaping this dull, lonely existence. 

It’s been a month since the construction-worker- Jason? Jay? Something like that- took a twenty-foot, swan-dive from a building. 

Fucker never even saw the ledge. 

Rey often wondered if he’d been born stupid or if someone had dropped him on his head as a kid. 

It didn’t matter much. He was a corpse, rotting in an alley somewhere in town and Rey… well… 

Anyway. She grabs a can of deodorant from the shelf and high-tails it out of there before the un-dead can show up. 

She may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she’s not stupid enough to stick around for lunch. 

* * *

The little cubby above the auto shop is just that and nothing else. A cubby. But it’s cozy, there’s electricity thanks to the diesel-fueled generator, and its only access point is the staff-door through the back. Well, if one doesn’t count the garage doors, but she hadn’t opened those since she got here. 

The first time she’d set foot inside, it had been like walking into a cesspool of grease, oil, and car-tires. With a little bit of fresh air- and some serious dusting- she’d managed to get rid of the worst of it. 

That had been back when she’d stilled cared about surviving. 

Now she just wants to  _ live _ . To go to a party, have a few beers, relax with her fellow classmates- even though she had hated their guts- and go home with a perfect stranger. 

She misses the times when things had been just a little bit…  _ easier _ . 

When all she had to worry about was getting good grades, paying her bills, and not dropping dead from sleep-deprivation. 

Those were the hay-days. 

Back when it all made sense. 

She won’t pray- For one, she’s not religious, and secondly, what God would mercilessly slaughter the creatures He creates?- but she’d love to not be alone. She’d ask for a friend, but Rey knows that no-one is out there listening. 

With a huge sigh, she unlocks the padlock to the backdoor and swoops in. She doesn’t even bother looking for intruders. At this point, she’s just  _ waiting  _ for someone to release her from this Hell. 

The pounding head-ache is back. She takes another swig of the brown swill her nimble fingers had swiped from the store. Rey shudders again. 

It’s not quality stuff- just some cheap shit for 3.99$- but it’ll do the trick. 

Besides, it gets her in the mood for her favorite past-time. 

Drunken Headshots. 

It’s a little game she invented a while back. She’ll load her  _ Barrett M82  _ sniper- the rifle she’d stolen from the sheriff’s department- with .50 caliber bullets and squeeze the trigger at unsuspecting zombies until their brains exploded. 

Not much in the way of entertainment these days anyway. 

It’s not like she has a working T.V. Even if there was such a thing, there aren’t any broadcasts. She’d learned that through trial and error. The military had stopped reaching out months ago. 

_ To think it’s actually been that long…  _

The first couple of days had been the hardest. The electricity had gone first; not a big shock there. 

Then the hoards had swarmed every street from East to West. Getting supplies had been nigh on impossible. 

Next was the people. The more dead that roamed the street, the rarer actual living beings became. 

Food had become a commodity, not a given. 

Water- at least clean- had become impossible to find. Bottled water had been the first to go; then the tap. 

All that was left now was alcohol, but even that was becoming increasingly rare. 

Rey suspected weeks ago that someone had been taking trips into town to resupply. Every so often there would be a fresh set of tire-tracks and spent ammo-casings she couldn’t identify. 

Either whoever’s hoarding is trading with other survivors, or they’re just as much of a tosspot that she is. She really hopes for the latter. That way there will be more left for her when he- she?- finally kicks the bucket. 

It won’t do to have a group of survivors swarming the town just because their dealer’s decided to take an eternal cat-nap. 

She grabs a fresh set of clothes and moves over to the bucket in the small rest-room. It’s not big enough to install a shower- Rey wouldn’t know how to anyway- but it’s got a sink and a mirror. Even if nothing comes out of the tap, she can still use it to drain the water. 

She shimmies out of her dirty clothes- they’re long overdue for a wash- and starts rubbing the honey&milk-scented soap into her dry skin. It’s August, which means that summer is throwing one last heat wave before disappearing for another year. September will be upon her in less than a month, and she needs to start prepping for winter. 

Soon enough the convenience store will become a health-hazard with all the ammonia building up from the rotting meat. She’ll probably do one last run next week- the week after that the latest- to see if she’s missed anything. 

Probably not, but it’s a peace of mind to know. 

Rey dips her hand into the bucket of shampoo that she’s collected and puts a generous amount into her dry, brittle hair. She’s probably long overdue for a haircut. Gods, she misses it. 

Not that she enjoyed it much, to begin with, but it’s the little things that really get to her sometimes. 

The fact that she’ll never enjoy an ice-cream so cold that it makes her teeth hurt. Or the smell of a salon. Or a bucket of ribs. Or  _ KFC _ . 

God, she misses junk-food. The simple act of dialing a number and have it delivered to her door. 

On cue, her stomach starts to rumble loudly. 

It’s been a while since she’d had a substantial meal other than canned beans and peaches. She fucking misses apples. Rey doesn’t even  _ like  _ apples. 

She’ll probably have to scrounge something up before she drops from starvation. It’s not a good way to die. She’d rather go out at  _ Six Flags,  _ riding rollercoasters through a hoard of Zombies and detaching from the cart; plunging to the ground to certain death. 

_ What a way to go.  _  
  


* * *

Tonight’s looking too bleak. 

There have only been two fiendish creatures passing by her shack in the past hour. Rey’s considering packing it up for the night and trying her luck tomorrow. Even if it wasn’t already past midnight, it’s getting too dark to see anything accurately out there.

The last thing she’d want to do is shoot a living creature. Don’t get her wrong, meat is meat, but she can’t exactly go down there to collect it. Not with all the zombies in the near vicinity. Even if they weren’t swarming around her right now, they would be when she rung the dinner-bell. 

It’s one of the few great things with the auto-shop at least: it’s well hidden in the forest, right off a freeway to the east. It’s at least a ten-minute drive from the nearest entrance ramp. 

In fact, this place is located way past where Jesus lost his sandals. 

If it weren’t for the town a few miles to the West, the closest inhabited town- though that’s really a questionable statement at this point in time- is… 

Actually, she’s not entirely sure where she is exactly. It’s not as though she’d bothered looking at signs and maps. They weren’t going to get her anywhere. After the car she’d hotwired- two days after the initial outbreak- had broken down two months ago, Rey had nothing to escape in. 

She wasn’t stupid enough to try and leave on foot. 

Too many things could go wrong, one amongst them being surprise-attacked on the road. 

She’d rather take her chances with this ass-backward, hill-billy hick-town over the open road any day. 

Even if the food-supply was seriously dwindling, and the lack of quality liqor was starting to get on her last nerve, it was still- strangely- starting to feel like home. 

Rey doesn’t know exactly when she’d started thinking of the repair-shop as home. It must have been somewhere between May and July. It’s almost ironic that this is the longest that she’s ever stay put in the same place. 

It’s been closer to a year now. 

At least she assumes, judging by the changing of seasons. 

The first- and only- winter had been brutal. With no heat, barely any firewood, and little in the way of supplies, Rey had almost joined the army of the undead. If it hadn’t been for the crashed military humvee that showed up in the town that month, Rey would have starved. 

She stifles a huge-ass yawn. It’s too late for fun, anyway. 

She places the sniper-rifle against the chair and goes inside for some well-deserved shut-eye. 

No dead would disturb her tonight. 

* * *

“Fuck,” 

She doesn’t know why she keeps expecting the shelves to get re-stocked. 

It’s not like people come here to put shit  _ back  _ on the shelf. 

Still, the lack of Vodka vexes her. She’s  _ vexed _ . 

She browses the thinning selection of crackers and settles on some  _ Triscuits _ . It’s not the tastiest snack, but it’ll do. 

She freezes in her step just shy of the locked razor case. 

_ That  _ definitely hadn’t been broken last night. 

Rey starts unholstering her  _ 9mm _ ; jumping at shadows with every movement of the wind. 

It could just have been a zombie that took a stumble. Then again, the imprint on the broken glass points towards the butt of a gun. And there hasn’t been zombies in this part of town in weeks. She doesn’t know why they don’t venture over here, but they just don’t. 

They avoid it like the plague. 

The only reasonable conclusion is a stray survivor out here looking for supplies. 

Rey almost laughs at the notion. If there had been anything of value in this town, she would’ve picked it clean weeks ago. She still won’t go near the gun-store, though. That thing’s got an alarm that would put  _ Alcatraz  _ to shame. 

She shrugs, puts the gun back against her hip, and takes a sip of Bourbon. It’s nothing special. In fact, toilet-wine would be more appealing. 

_ Beggars can’t be choosers.  _

Just as she reaches the fork in the road leading to her precious auto-shop, she spots him. Another survivor, clad in a red-flannel shirt; hair and beard over-grown. He’s handsome. Weird-looking with all his odd angles and big features, but handsome nonetheless. 

_ Ten out of ten would bang _ . 

It’s just a senseless fantasy, but it’s nice to make-believe sometimes. 

She stands still, watching as he crouches behind a dumpster with a-  _ huh, that has to be a standard 10mm _ \- gun in hand. He hasn’t seen her yet. He’s probably too far away. 

Rey notices- once he stands up- that he’s actually quite tall. Probably a good foot taller than her. And his hands are the sizes of snow shovels. 

She shakes her head and walks away. 

The stranger’s just a nobody. 

  
He’ll soon just be another corpse in her rearview mirror anyway. 


	2. Habits [Stay High]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should really check out Tove Lo's _Habits [Stay High] _on Spotify.__

Rey had assumed that the stranger would get the Hell out of dodge after that day. 

Oh, how wrong she’d been. 

He turns up in town, every day like clockwork at ten a.m. 

She doesn’t know why ten exactly, and she doesn’t bother asking. It’s not like he knows that she’s watching. 

Or maybe he does, but he’s just polite enough to keep his distance. 

Rey honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

Once he realizes that the town’s been picked clean, he’ll pack up his shit and vamoose. 

Except he doesn’t. 

It’s been eleven days. 

_ Eleven  _ long days of watching the stranger try and scavenge for supplies. She could leave a note. 

_ Kindly get the fuck out of my town.  _

_ Thanks, management.  _

Rey probably should put up a sign somewhere, discouraging people from coming too close. She just has to come up with a perfect directive first.  _ Fuck off  _ is a little bit too cliché. Somehow  _ Get out  _ doesn’t get the message across.  _ Leave  _ seems too vague.  _ Don’t enter  _ just seems like she’s begging to get robbed. 

She chews on a hard candy she’d found in the pharmacy a few minutes ago. Either that, or it’s drugs, in which case she’s all for it. She could use a little pick-me-up. 

The dumb-ass stranger had taken the last good bottle of bourbon two days ago and Rey had been itching for a fix ever since. 

It’s not that she’s an alcoholic per se- expect, yes, she kind of is. 

It’s just that going through life alone doesn’t seem fun sober. She’s tried- for months she’d tried- until giving in to her cravings and downing a bottle of Vodka. It hadn’t been the last, but it had been the most memorable. 

That must have been months ago. There hadn’t been Vodka in this town since before the first heat-wave had struck. 

She pops another candy into her mouth and hopes for the placebo effect to kick in. If she just believes, maybe she’ll get high. 

From her vantage point up on the roof of the drug-store, Rey can see everything. The pond in the distance where she gets most of her water. The church on the other side of town with the words “Alive” written in big, red letters (it had been a hoax. When she’d gotten there, the only things still walking had been the zombies). The residential area furthest to her left in her peripheral where she’d gotten fresh sheets and pillows that one week in November when it had snowed for four days straight. 

And then there’s the stranger, less than two blocks away; trying to jimmy the lock of the Health Center. There was nothing in there, Rey had checked months ago. Just a bunch of corpses- thankfully not moving ones- and year-old coffee still in the pot by the brewer. 

Their tea-selection had seriously dwindled since her arriving in town, too. 

She takes a quick stock of her bounty. Two cans of tuna- not expired yet, thank the Gods- a tube of shaving cream- ‘cause you never know- a packet of gauze- also from the pharmacy downstairs- and some Midol- that one speaks for itself. 

There had also been some canned corn, more beans- she was getting so  _ tired _ of the stupid beans- sliced pineapple, and canned meat, but none of that sounded particularly appealing anyway. It was all just sort of a courtesy grab to make sure that the stranger didn’t clean out the store before she could. 

Rey may not have much, but what she has she  _ will  _ protect until her dying breath. 

Plus, it’s fun to watch his frustration grow every time he emerges from the store. 

He still doesn’t know that she’s hidden all the good stuff- the cans and shit she can’t haul in one go- in the dumpster out the back. 

Rey had almost laughed herself silly one time when he’s kicked the fire-hydrant in frustration, only to let out an undignified yelp in pain. He’d limped all the way out of town. All six feet or so of him. 

It’s almost afternoon when he gives up on the lock and sits down on the side-walk. Rey thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to have lunch- a late one at least. 

She grabs one of the cans- beans in tomato it is- and a spoon from her rucksack and digs in. The initial taste of metal is always the worst. It goes away with time. Eventually, one gets used to eating the same old grub for dinner that it just becomes routine. 

She chews, swallows, and shuffles another spoonful into her mouth. 

She almost feels bad for him.  _ Almost _ . He looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. It doesn’t show outwardly- that man could probably snap a log in half with his bare hands- but it’s in his eyes; written all over his face. 

He’s starving. 

Rey glances into her can of beans with a sadness she can’t explain. 

Still, she keeps eating. 

His survival isn’t her problem. 

  
  


* * *

On day thirteen, the stranger almost spots her. At least, he knows that there’s something-someone- hiding. 

Rey had been on her merry way to the store, minding her own fucking business, when she’d noticed the shadow looming in the alley. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time- zombies never came this close- until the frustrated growl- yes, an actual growl- had almost scared the panties off her. 

She couldn’t help the gasp escaping from her throat. 

The stranger falls silent; listening to every change in the wind. 

Rey had high-tailed it out of there before he could investigate. 

On the off chance that he’s violent, Rey doesn’t really want to introduce herself. She can only imagine how that would go. 

_ “Hey, I’m Rey and I’ve been fucking you over for weeks by hoarding all the food and watching you like a God-damn creep and laughing at your misfortunes.”  _

She’d soon rather eat Plutt’s dirty socks. 

It’s almost psychopathic, how much she loves seeing him struggle and ultimately fail. Maybe it’s because  _ she  _ doesn’t have to. She’s already learned all that she has to about this town. Like for instance, to avoid the high-school at all costs. You think cheerleaders were mean alive, just wait until you meet the undead ones. Even in death, they congregate like a flock of seagulls around a fiesta. 

The gun store was another obvious one. The alarm would set every infected within the town’s borders on her before she could react.  _ That  _ would be a  _ literal  _ dinner bell being rung. 

As a rule, Rey’s not crazy about the pharmacy either, but so long as she doesn’t try to get the prescription shit, there shouldn’t be a problem. The front window had been busted for years anyway. 

The carpet-cleaners, laundromat, museum, and senior-center she avoided for clear reasons. There was nothing of use there. Unless she wanted her carpet cleaned; her clothes laundered; a tour in the prehistoric era; or a game of bridge that is. 

Actually saying that Rey realizes that her clothes  _ do  _ need a wash. They’re starting to smell worse than the dead. Various stains- that she can not for the life of her explain how they got there, or even what they are- dot the  _ Panic! At the disco  _ shirt. 

She’s got a change of clothes back at the shop, it’s just that… 

Well… Finn had given her this one. She can’t bare accidentally misplacing it after a wash or ruining it in some way. 

So she keeps it on, even though she could easily be mistaken for Oscar the Grouch with the amount of filth. 

The loud bang startles her so badly that she almost falls out of her folding-chair. 

“Fuck!” 

Yup. Fuck, indeed. The stranger had- not so accidentally it would seem- thrown a rock through the window of the health-center in pure anger. For someone who’s survived this long, he’s surprisingly moronic. She could just picture him getting thronged in less than a minute; teeth tearing into the sinews of his muscles. 

Time to vacate the premise before she becomes the desert. 

  
  


* * *

Rey’s astounded- and a little bit stupefied, to be honest- to see him the following day in front of the gas station just off the main road. She’d assumed he might have ended up as lunch after the debacle yesterday. 

But no. The dolt keeps sticking around, trying his luck at yet another poorly selected location. Rey had walked past the station many times, but never actually ventured inside. 

It was too out in the open; too easy to over-run. Plus, the giant fucking windows had discouraged her more than once. Several were broken, meaning multiple points of egress for man and undead alike. 

And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, it was located in the part of town that seemed to be the perfect location for spotting some infected on zombie-safari. The border between safety and certain death was somewhere between the laundromat and the carpet-cleaning business. All in all, a five-block radius. 

She doesn’t laugh this time. 

She just sits on top of the pharmacy- leering through her sniper-scope- watching his every move. If he fails, she’ll know that her suspicions were correct and that raiding the gas-station would be a bad idea. 

But if he succeeded, she’d have a new location to scavenge. It’s a win-win situation. Well… for her anyway. 

He steps over the broken glass of the floor to ceiling windows, looks both ways, and finally puts his foot inside. 

The stranger abruptly curses, turns heel, and starts running; at least five undead in tow. 

Okay, so maybe she lets out a small chuckle, but how could she not? He looked almost adorable with the panic on his face- eyes pried wide- and arms flailing around like one of those inflatable  _ tube men _ . 

He’s got good cardio, she’ll give him that. He runs at least a mile to the opposite side of town without slowing or stopping to catch his breath. Though she can tell he’s built more for fight, he has no problem with flight either. A runner and a fighter, then. 

Her jaw almost drops in surprise when he glides over a trashcan- just like in the action movies- and drops behind it in a swift move. Either the zombies were getting dumber, or people were finally starting to get smarter. 

They run past his hiding-spot without picking up the trail. 

When they reach the residential area, they grind to a halt. They look at each other almost as to say “the fuck did he go?” and promptly resume the task of looking for a different meal. 

The stranger emerges from behind the dumpster; wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans and lifts his shirt high above his chest to wipe his wet forehead. 

“Hubba, hubba,” This guy is  _ shredded _ . She could probably play the guiro on his abs. 

Rey leans in to get a closer look through her scope-

And accidentally pulls the trigger. 

Never in her twenty- though she’s not entirely sure- years of life has Rey seen someone jump so high in surprise. A second later, he disappears around the corner of the five-story building. 

“Oh, shit.” Rey runs away with her tail between her legs like a little bitch. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” She repeats all the way back to the auto-shop. 

Well… that could have gone better. 

  
  


* * *

Rey doesn’t return to town for another two days. Mostly because it’s a hassle to walk the five miles or so to get there and because she doesn’t need more supplies right now. 

And then there’s the fact that she’s too embarrassed to show her face. 

Logically, she knows that he hadn’t seen her. She’d had the advantage of looking at him through a sniper-scope, but still. 

She can just  _ hear  _ that conversation playing out in her head. 

_ “I got so thirsty when you lifted your shirt that I almost blew your fucking head off with a .50 caliber sniper rifle.”  _

She screws her face in discomfort and proceeds to bang her head against the wall in frustration. 

How could she have been so stupid? She really did think that the safety had been on. 

_ Note to self: no more ogling the incredibly stout drifter.  _

She’s still banging her head against the wall- because she  _ deserves  _ a splitting headache, after what happened yesterday- when she notices the cross-breeze. 

In hindsight, she really should have locked the door. Set out some traps at least. 

There’s a soft click of a gun behind her. 

And then: 

“Don’t move.” 

She groans. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t.” 

She can practically  _ smell  _ the humiliation seeping through her pores. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The author regrets nothing. :D ******


	3. Look Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some Ben POV. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ
> 
> Song by _BlocBoy JB, featuring Drake ___

_ A kid?  _

Ben hadn’t expected to find anyone in this place. It was so secluded one could easily miss it. It hadn’t even appeared on the old, dusty map. 

He’d walked five miles down a gravel-paved road- mostly obscured by growing reeds and overgrown foliage- with his gun raised the entire time. This whole part of town may have seemed deserted, but Ben’s not about to take any chances. 

The further down the trail he walked, the more sparsely built the neighborhood became. It seemed untouched by everything, almost like before the end had come. 

Ben isn’t really sure what he’d expected- a farm-house or a campground maybe- but an auto-shop hadn’t been amongst his guesses. 

It was warehouse-like in appearance with tall, boarded up windows and covered in green, flaked metal sheeting. The letters on the sign had gotten too faded to read, but he could make out the letters  _ G  _ and  _ S _ . 

It could have easily have been mistaken for uninhabited. If it hadn’t been for the loud banging against the wall. 

Ben found the likelihood of survivors to be too small. Infinitesimal to be honest. And yet, when he’d entered, that’s exactly what he’d seen. A girl, banging her head against the wall in frustration, muttering underneath her breath. 

He looks at her back- some band logo splayed out just underneath her neck- with narrowed eyes. 

She looks young, certainly too young to be out here alone. Though she’s got a pair of slender legs, black shorts, a nice; pert ass-

_ No! Fuck no! She’s just a kid. Just a  _ **_kid_ ** _.  _

Ben shakes his head to get rid of the creepy thoughts. It’s been too long since he’s seen any action. 

“Don’t move,” He repeats. 

“I already said I won’t,” She mutters tartly in a sophisticated British-lilt. 

“G-good,” Ben tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m not gonna rob you. You just caught me by surprise.” 

“ _ I  _ caught  _ you  _ by surprise? You broke into  _ my  _ fucking home, ass-wipe.” She bristles. 

Ben recoils in surprise. Well… he certainly hadn’t expected  _ that _ . 

“How many people live here?” 

“What’s it to you?” She fumes. If he looks close enough, Ben could probably see the steam coming out of her ears. 

Cute, but not useful ”Just answer the question.” 

She thinks it over for a second before replying. “It’s just me.” 

“I thought so,” He admits. Though he’s appalled by her lack of security. It’s as if though she’s asking for someone to come and kill her. “Are there any other survivors in town?” 

“Sure. They come and go. Haven’t seen one in a while though.” She says with a shrug; back still to him. 

He’s been in town for around two weeks.

At first, it had all seemed honkey-dory. Until yesterday when someone had taken a shot at him. It had sounded like a large caliber bullet- most likely a rifle- at a long-range- sniper maybe?

They must have been watching him since he first set foot in the city. 

“Did you hear someone fire a rifle yesterday afternoon?” 

He can see the blush creeping up her freckle-covered neck at a steady rise. 

“No.” 

He pushes the gun further into the flesh of her back. “You’re lying.” 

“Fine, I did. What’s it to you?” 

“They tried to kill me.” 

The girl shrugs her lean shoulders. Gods, she’s skinny. He can’t see her face from this angle, but he’s almost certain that it’s gaunt and hollow. 

“Not my problem. Now, get out.” 

He suspects that she knows more than she lets on, but he doesn’t have more time to waste here. Ben hasn’t eaten in almost six days- apart from a box of biscuits he’d found in an apartment downtown- and his stomach feels like it’s consuming itself. 

If he doesn’t get some food in him soon, he won’t have to worry about whoever shot at him yesterday. The hunger would finish him off faster than any bullet could. 

He sighs. Even if she knows who had fired at him, she’s not likely to trust a complete stranger. His stomach rumbles loudly in harmony with the low growl erupting from his throat. 

Ben holsters his gun. “Alright. On one condition.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“You share some food with me.” That seems reasonable, right?

“How about I just beat you to death instead?” 

_ Huh? _

“What?” 

Ben really should have seen the pipe coming. 

_ Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve.  _

  
  


* * *

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  _ Too repetitive?  _

“Shit, shit, shit.” There… much better. 

She hadn’t meant to swing so  _ hard _ . Her only intention had been to get him out-cold before dumping him outside for the Walking Munchies. 

The twat had broken into  _ her  _ home after all. This is his own fault. 

Then again… 

He’s actually kind of handsome up close. Even if his nose is a little too big, his lips are too pouty for a man, and the ears sticking out from underneath his tresses- how the  _ Hell  _ has he managed to keep it so silky and soft?- reminded her of the human version of  _ Dumbo _ . 

But he’s a  _ man _ .

And Rey hasn’t gotten laid since the first week of college. It’s literally been  _ years _ since she’s gotten porked. 

_ The thirst is sooo real.  _

But there’s a- ahem- slight conundrum. 

His brains are now most likely meat-soup from the blow. 

“Phuket, Thailand.”  _ Fuck, shit, damn… I fucked up so bad.  _

Rey sprints towards the back- where she keeps most of her important supplies- and grabs a rag that’s relatively clean. She dips it into the bucket of this morning’s river-water- okay, that’s  _ definitely  _ not sanitary at all- and runs back. 

The cold rag ends up on his slanted forehead- Gods, how many moles can one man have?- and she sits back onto the heels of her feet; waiting for something to happen. 

She mentally face-palms herself. He’s going to have a splitting headache when-  _ if _ \- he wakes up. 

Rey runs around like a headless chicken for a good five minutes before she remembers that she’d popped the last Advil a week ago in the midst of one of the worst hangovers she’s ever experienced. 

Before all the alcohol had magically disappeared. 

Just to confirm her suspicions, Rey rummages through the moss-green tactical bag he’d carried with him. 

And there, at the very top, is her last good bottle of bourbon, completely empty. 

“Motherfucker!” 

He can kick the bucket now for all she cares.

  
  


* * *

She doesn’t let him die. 

Fuck her if she knows, but she doesn’t. 

Rey sits with him for the remainder of the afternoon- almost until the sun disappears below the horizon- waiting for a sign.  _ No _ , not an  _ Ace of Base  _ kind of thing. Just a stir, really. Or maybe some eye-movement. 

_ Anything, Lord, anything _ . 

The silence is slowly killing her. Normally, she’d have the soundtrack of the shuffling undead playing outside, but for some reason, they’ve fucked off to who knows where. 

She starts a fire, cooks a can of beans, and waits. While she eats, Rey studies him. 

She’d been right: he  _ is  _ tall. Obscenely so. She suspects he must have ducked to get through the back entrance. Then again, whoever had worked here before had probably been Hobbits. 

He’s filthy- an apocalypse will do that to you- but apart from that, he’s not too shabby. There was the aforementioned unfortunate situation he had going with his face- that he somehow made work for him- but the body attached to it wasn’t half bad. 

She swallows a spoonful of piping-hot beans and resumes waiting. 

If there’s one thing Rey’s good at, it’s waiting. 

She’s almost ready to give up on him when his whole body twitches. His chocolate-brown eyes shoot open- well, they don’t  _ look  _ dead, just a little red- and the anger and confusion roar like a fire. 

“What… the…  _ fuck _ ?” Dear Lord, that rasp; like sandpaper against grated steel. There’s a whole flood-situation going on in her pants right now. 

“There’s food,” She motions with her utensils at the can of beans on the grate over the fire because fuck it. She’d decided to feed him, as a way to apologize. 

_ Sorry, I lead-piped your head. _

_ Sincerely, one thirsty bitch.  _

The stranger pulls himself up so he’s leaning against his elbows; each movement accompanied by a groan of pain. 

Maybe she’d been too rough on him? 

_ Maybe _ . Possibly. Slightly.  **Absolutely** . 

She winches in discomfort. “It’s nothing special. Just canned beans, but it’s…  _ something  _ at least.” 

His eyes shine in the light of the fire. He grunts again. “That’s all you have to say?” 

She nods; mouth filled with food. 

“No apology?” 

Rey shrugs. 

“Can I ask why?” 

“You broke into my home, threatened me at  _ gunpoint _ , and demanded a favor. I think we both know that I did the right thing here.” 

Psychopath. Yup. She can read it in his eyes. That’s exactly what he’s thinking. 

“You’re crazy. And heartless” 

She points her spoon at him in a serious manner.

“I resent that, Mister. I’m not  _ crazy _ . For all I know, you wanted to play a game of rob, rape, or kill.” 

The stranger rubs the back of his head with a pained expression. 

“It’s not bleeding.” She says. His eyes meet hers. “I checked.”

He scoffs. “Good to know.” He grunts again. “You’re still one crazy bitch, though.” 

“I thought we went over this, you knob. I’m not crazy. I’m just cautious!” 

Another scoff. “Cautious, my ass. If you were, you wouldn’t have left the door unlocked.” 

_ Tits.  _ He got her there. 

She groans in annoyance. “Fine. Maybe I’m not  _ cautious _ as such. But the principle still stands. You shouldn’t have been skulking around here.” 

“How was I supposed to know that the place was inhabited?” He finally gets on his feet. A little wobbly, but at least he manages to take a seat opposite of her in front of the fire. “Next time, put up a fucking sign or something.” 

“Hadn’t considered it,” Rey deadpans. 

He chuckles dryly. “Right.” 

Rey’s never been good with awkward silence. It’s just her luck then that she ends up with maybe the only other person in a hundred-mile radius  _ capable  _ of talking, and he just sits there; as silent as a mute.

“What’s your name?” She asks, trying to keep the conversational spark alive, so to speak. 

“What’s it to you?” Low blow, throwing her words back in her face. 

“Fine… be that way. Just figured since you’re eating my food and all that you might at least grace me with some conversation.” She bristles.

He cracks open the can with a hunting-knife- how had she missed that? And more importantly, where the fuck had he been hiding it? She had placed his gun out of his reach though, just to be on the safe side- and digs in like a fucking caveman. 

Actually, scratch that. He eats like a ravenous fucking bear. 

“Ben,” He manages to blurt out through bites. “My name’s Ben.” 

She extends her hand above the flame. “Rey. Nice to meet you.” 

“I’m not shaking it.” 

_ Rude _ . 

She lets her hand drop back to her food. “Whatever.” 

He points towards the flame. “I’m not gonna risk third-degree burns for some outdated social ritual that’s long since outlived its usefulness.” 

“Wow,” She quips. “I think that might be the longest sentence you’ve ever spoken to me.” Rey slaps her hand against her sternum in a mock gesture. “I’m so touched that we’re finally progressing to the next step in our friendship.” 

“Don’t get any ideas, Kid. I’m not your friend. I’m just passing through.” 

She breaks her age-old rule of wasting food and flicks a small portion of her beans at his face. He has the good grace to close his eyes at least. “Hey, fuck you, buddy. I’m not a kid. I’m twenty.” 

Ben- he’d told her his name was Ben, but who knew nowadays what’s true and what’s not- wipes his face with his charcoal stained fingers. 

“Well, with the way you’re acting, it’s hard to tell if you’re being serious.” He finally gets the last tomato-covered bean off his long, angular face. 

She shrugs. “Who the fuck knows anymore. I don’t even know what year it is.” 

“2021.” He replies curtly. 

_ Two years? Had it really been that long?  _ “Well, then yes. I’m twenty.” 

“Why am I not surprised you’re a 2000s baby?” She’s about to throw another spoonful of food at him when he speaks over her. “Do you have any water?” 

She motions with her head towards the back. “There’s a river that runs through the forest. Can’t promise you won’t get worms from drinking it though. But that’s more of a ‘ _ you’  _ problem, to be honest.” 

He realizes that this isn’t a fight that he can win. She’d taken his gun- tucked safely between a harris-wrench and some bunting tape in the toolbox upstairs- and even if he drew his knife, she’d draw her  _ 9mm  _ quicker. 

Besides, she  _ had  _ been nice enough to feed him, after all. Maybe he was finally softening up to her. 

“May I have some clean water, please?” 

_ It’s an olive branch,  _ she keeps reminding herself as she reaches behind the log she’s seated on top of and tosses the bottle at him. “There. Don’t waste it. I’m not giving you more.” 

There’s a stubborn droplet working its way down his chin, past his impressive Adam’s apple, and all the way underneath his shirt. What she wouldn’t give to lick that drop off his body. She didn’t even care about the fact that he probably hadn’t had a wash in weeks. 

_ Just throw me a fucking bone here, God.  _

He has the decency to wipe it away with the arm of his flannel.

_ God: 1 - Rey: 0  _

“Don’t worry. I’m not expecting more hand-outs. I was only in town to look for supplies,” He looks around at her impressive empty can-collection and cracker-boxes. “On the plus side, I finally figured out who’s been hoarding the good stuff.” 

She shrugs again, a motion she’s prone to when she has a hard time coming up with something to say. “I’ve been here the longest. They should probably re-name it  _ Rey-town  _ by now.” 

He snorts. “I’ll make sure to pass it along to the government officials when I go into town next time.” 

“Ha,” She exclaims sarcastically. “Very funny. Just a fair warning, they’re more brainless than your garden-variety politician.” 

“You can say that twice,” He mutters. 

“You said you were just passing through.” 

“Huh?” His head whips up in surprise, as though those were the first words he’s ever heard in his life. 

“Earlier. You said you were just passing through town in search of supplies. Are you heading somewhere nice?” 

Ben- she has to get used to thinking of him as Ben- frowns deeply. “Yeah. At least I hope so. I heard that the military’s setting up a base in Casper. Parkerton was on my way.” 

“It’s a hoax.” She blurts out. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Let me guess, you read it on the signs on the outskirts of town?” 

He recoils.  _ Bingo.  _ “I… how do you know, though?” 

“That’s where I was going, too, before I ended up here. I got stuck here after my car broke down. I was gonna continue on foot, but those guys showed up here before I could. I overheard them talking about some pretty gnarly stuff one time. Let’s just say it would give Ted Bundy nightmares.” 

Rey can pinpoint the exact moment when it all goes to shit. No, she wasn’t referring to the first initial outbreak. Honestly, she would have  _ preferred  _ another one over his tantrum. 

Ben flies out his seat, nostrils flaring like some deranged bull, and starts kicking one of the old cars that had been in the shop the day disaster struck. 

“Shit, fuck, fuck, shit, damn, mother-” kick, kick, and another kick. “-fucker!” 

There’s a noise outside that she’s all too familiar with. 

Rey drops her half-eaten can to the floor and hurries over to the door; locking and barricading it with an old cabinet. 

“Can it,” She hisses. “Do you  _ want  _ to die?” 

He at least has the good sense to keep it down. A minute later, the zombie wanders off. Thank some cosmical Force that she’d chosen to board up all the windows when she’d gotten here. Not even the light from the fire shone through.

The only problem left is currently pacing around the open space like a mad-man. 

Rey turns slowly, gritting her teeth in anger. 

_ What’s that? The Mortal Combat soundtrack playing on repeat in the back of her mind? Quite fucking possibly.  _

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that all about?” 

He stops; rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands in a frustrated manner. With a deep sigh, he lets them fall to his sides. 

Rey recognizes that look.

He’s giving up on life. 

She knows that look all too well. It’s the same one she’d had on her face for weeks after all her friends had died. Somehow, life didn’t feel worth living after that. 

_ Maybe now it can _ . 

“I’m sorry,” He mutters into the open air. “That was stupid of me.” 

She doesn’t respond. There’s no need. 

Rey resumes her position by the fire; adding another log to keep it going. She looks up into the ceiling to check on the vents. 

“So what’s your next step?” Her eyes are still stuck on the vents. 

“I… I don’t know.” He sounds so lost. A part of her just wants to wrap him in a blanket and give him a hot cup of cocoa. Another part wants to tell him to grow the fuck up and stop throwing tantrums. 

She does neither. 

“You could stay here.” She swallows thickly. “I know it’s not much, but it’s safe, well-fortified, and dry. I could always use help with the upkeep. Maybe we could grow crops or some new-age shit, right? Live off the land and all that?” 

There’s a good, long, minute of silence- only the crackling of tinder in the fire as a response- until he finally decides to speak. 

“It’s a pretty picture. But that’s all it is… a picture.” 

Her smile is sad. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” 

Rey finally finds the courage to look him in the eye. He’s calmer now. “You do?” 

He shrugs; throwing his hands into the air. “It’s not like I have a better plan anyway. But we both know that we’ve bled the town dry. Between you, me, and the looters, there’s not even a decent bottle of scotch left.” 

She mock-sneers at him. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me of that. You stole the left bottle from the store.” 

“ _ Scavenged _ . There’s a difference.” 

Okay, so maybe her name hadn’t been on it. But still. It stung. She only had a bottle of champagne- Sparkling wine really. Some generic shit from Napa- and she was saving it for a special occasion. 

“Tom-a-to, tomat-o.” She drops it just as quick as she’d brought it up. “You’re the man with the plan. Where do we go next?” 

“Hold your horses there, kid,”  _ Aaand, back to ‘fuck you’-Ville _ . “I haven’t decided if I  _ want  _ to do a cross-country with you. Frankly, I don’t know you well enough to know if you’d stab me in the back for a new pair of shoes.” 

She snorts. “I’m more likely to knife you in the gut for a bottle of rum.” 

“Jesus, Kid. You’re not even old enough to drink.” 

Rey lets out an enraged growl. “Will you stop calling me that? I’m not a fucking kid, alright?” 

He looks like he wants to argue. But he bites his tongue, shakes his head, and gives in. “Fine.  _ Rey _ . I don’t know you well enough to make an informed decision.” 

“You could just throw caution to the wind?” It’s hopeful. A little too cheery and brown-nosing perhaps, but hopeful nonetheless. 

“That’s not really my style. I’m more of a planner.” 

“And I’m more of a do: er. See! We’re already getting to know each other.” 

He whoops out a laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think that’ll be enough.” 

She points towards the log opposite of hers. “So sit down and let’s do this properly.” 

This time, Ben doesn’t even  _ consider  _ arguing. He dutifully takes his seat and clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Alright. What do you want to know?” 

“Everything.” 

  
  


* * *

At the end of the night, Rey’s learned more about him than she knows about cars. And to surmise: she knows a  _ lot  _ about cars. 

She learns that his full name is Benjamin Parker Solo, he’s thirty-years-old in November, he has a mother named Leia and a father named Han, he has many uncles that aren’t blood-relatives, and one that is that he wished wasn’t. 

She doesn’t open that can of worms. 

In return, she tells him that her name is Rachel Victoria- because it can’t get British enough- Michaels, she hails from Brooklyn, New York- before that, probably England though no-one’s actually sure- and that she’d been studying mechanical engineering at M.I.T before the outbreak. 

The annoyed grunt and accompanied “of fucking course” doesn’t escape her attention. But he doesn’t elaborate, and she doesn’t pry. 

There are more tidbits and trivia all throughout the night. 

At  _ 10:16-  _ according to his wristwatch- he tells her that he’d never gone to college and that he’d joined the Marines straight out of high school. 

_ 10:25  _ brought the shocking revelation that she never learned how to swim. He’d  _ wanted  _ to ask about that particular fact, but had been nice enough not to. 

Somewhere around  _ 10:40  _ he’d told her all about growing up California. She’d shared some information about New York, mainly where the best pizza-places were. They both sat in silence for a few minutes afterward just picturing the cheesy goodness in their respective minds. 

At  _ 11:01  _ he’d first yawned and told her that he’d been on his school’s basketball team. No surprise there. 

Rey had told him about the school’s robotics club where she’d been the president. 

_ “Nerd,”  _ He’d said. 

To which she’d replied:  _ “Of course.”  _

They went back and forth asking questions-  _ Where were you when the outbreak happened? How long have you been alone? What do you miss the most?-  _ for another hour. 

He informed her that he’d been home on leave when the first reports of the outbreak had trickled in. Then he’d revealed that he’d been alone for most of two years, not bothering to bring anyone really. Pizza and beer, he’d answered for her last question. He didn’t even need to think it through. 

“What about you?” Ben had asked later. 

She told him about how she’d thought the whole out-break thing had been her next-door neighbors banging.  _ “Naturally,” _ he’d responded. She tells him all about the plethora of different people she’s met over the years, and his face droops into sadness. He’s not surprised to learn that she misses showers the most. 

“Not just showers,  _ Ben _ .  _ Hot  _ ones. I’d give my right arm and leg for a shower. I’d kill the Virgin Mary for a hot one.” 

The rest of the evening is spent playing twenty questions, though those are mostly childish questions like: “Who’d win in a fight? Superman or Wonderwoman?”- though she has to admit that that hadn’t been stupid at all- and “What would you do for a Klondike bar?” - _ ”Fucking nothing, they’re disgusting,”  _ he’d replied haughtily. 

By the time midnight rolled around, they were both too tired to go on with the game. 

She stretches her arms above her head and lets out the biggest yawn known to man. “I’m pooped. I’m gonna hit the hay.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

He shuffles awkwardly against the log; bumps and stuff probably digging into his back. 

“I’d offer you to crawl in, but you stink worse than a sewer.” 

He chuckles; throwing an arm over his eyes. “You don’t exactly smell like roses and daisies either, sunshine.” 

“First of all, fuck you. That’s no way to talk to a lady-” 

“Tell me if you see one.” He retorts. 

“And secondly, no running water, remember?” 

“You could go for a dip in the river?” 

“Can’t swim, remember?” 

“Right.” 

“Memory of a goldfish,” Rey mutters, swatting at his arm playfully. “And I didn’t plan on having company over.” 

“It was sort of unexpected. Sorry for not bringing wine.” 

She chuckles. “Not really a big fan of wine.” 

“Then how about some coffee?”

Rey snorts. “How about you run back to the gas station and fetch some? Just make sure to steer clear of the infected this time.” 

_ Oh, shit.  _

“What do you mean,  _ this time _ ? How did you know I’ve been to the-” 

_ Oh, Fudge-icles.  _

“I fucking  _ knew  _ it!” He hovers over her; looking her dead in the eye. “ _ You!”  _

“Me?” She deadpans. 

“You tried to fucking shoot me.” 

Well… fuck.  _ Ground swallow me whole.  _

_ And, Jesus, while you’re at it, take the fucking wheel.  _


	4. It's A Vibe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to go down :D

Call her crazy- Ben certainly had- but was the room shrinking? Was is somehow getting smaller or is she just imagining things? 

“You tried to  _ shoot  _ me!” 

Oh, yeah, no… it’s just her brain being deprived of oxygen from holding her breath. 

“I…” The most undignified squeak leaves her mouth. “I’m sorry.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” 

_ What was that? The sound of the awkward conversation-train pulling into the station.  _

_ Choo-choo.  _

“I don’t know, okay!” She screams back at him. “I… I thought you were one of the raiders.” 

Okay, not her finest moment. He can smell her bullshit from a mile away. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“Did you forget the safety?” 

“Sure,” She nods awkwardly.

“Were you cleaning your gun when it went off?” 

_ No, I was checking out that toight bod underneath the flannel, son.  _

She nods and squeaks out a small “yes”. 

That had been a lie, but she was too mortified to tell him the truth. 

“Unbelievable!” Ben throws his hands into the air in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with some fucking idiot  _ kid _ !” 

“Hey!” Rey shoves him.  _ Hard _ . Not enough for him to tumble- he doesn’t move an inch really- but her wrists feel the impact deeply. “Ow,” Her mouth forms a long-lasting ‘o’ as she shakes the pain from her hands. “Are you made out of lead or something?” 

“I need a drink.” He mutters and disappears towards his backpack. Ben crouches down, opens the flap, and goes still. “You stole my liquor, too.” 

Rey looks away in shame. 

_ That _ she had done. Drank it, too. 

“I plead the fifth.” 

Ben huffs out a laugh. And not one of those cute “oh, I can’t be mad at you” but more like “I just stabbed someone eighty times with a rusty screwdriver”. 

_ SKC, a.k.a “Serial Killer Creepy”.  _

“Where’s my pistol?” 

She snorts loudly. “Oh, yeah, like I’m gonna give you a gun right now. I’m not stupid.” 

“Yeah?” He quips. “Who almost killed me cleaning her rifle?” 

“I-”

“That’s right. You.” 

She will omit to  _ walking  _ into that one. She, however, won’t admit to the fact that she threw herself head-first into a flaming pit of fiery rage. 

“Okay, fine. I’m slightly stupid. But I’m not suicidal.” 

“No, you’re just homicidal.” He mutters, mostly to himself. 

“And you’re probably going to get me killed. You wanna talk stupidity? How about the fact that you dove headfirst into a zombie fiesta at the gas station yesterday? How the fuck did you even make it through boot camp? I thought the military screened for the idiot gene-” 

He’d only meant to scare her. 

Most likely, he hadn’t meant for the empty can to reach its mark. But it had-  _ did _ \- and her forehead now stung like Hell. 

“What the fuck, dude?” She screams, trying to force her eyes not to water. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

She doesn’t let him finish before throwing it back at him. 

It only hits his pectoral, but still. She hopes he dies from a horrible case of scepsis from the rusted tin. 

Rey withdraws her hand from her forehead to check if she’ll have to share his fate. 

It seems neither one had gotten hurt, other than their pride. 

She glances towards the ladder leading up to her little loft. Then back at him. 

“I’m going to sleep. You sort your shit out and we won’t have a problem.” 

“I said I was sorry.” 

She climbs into her make-shift bed- just a roll she’d stolen from a camp a month ago after her matress had crapped out on her- and tunes out his voice. 

_ Like white-noise _ . 

“You’re being a fucking bitch!” 

_ Revision: White-trash noise _ . 

“Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.” 

She won’t be the first to break. Rey is many things, but a doormat isn’t one of them. He’ll crack first. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

_ If I don’t murder you in your sleep first.  _

  
  


* * *

She wakes to the smell of freshly cooked breakfast. None of the canned stuff either.  _ Real  _ food. For a moment, she thinks it’s all been a dream; like the past two years never happened. 

When she opens her eyes, reality rears its ugly head. 

Of fucking course, she’s not that lucky. No one is. 

Rey turns around, seeking just a few more minutes of peace before all Hell will break loose. 

_ I.e, when I murder his sorry ass.  _

Honestly, though, she should probably be more understanding. He hadn’t meant for the can to hit her. It had just been for show, to scare her a little bit. Ben seemed like a good guy. Ben was- 

“Fuck. Shit.” Followed by a loud crash. 

Ben’s going to be eating bullets far into the next  _ century _

With a loud- very unladylike- grunt, Rey lifts her head from her make-shift pillow. It’s too fucking early for this shit. She can’t see the sun, but she just knows it- in her heart or something- that it’s not even sunrise. 

More cursing from downstairs. 

Rey quickly gets dressed and just as hastily decides that  _ no _ , she’s not going to have breakfast with him. When she glides down the ladder, Rey has no intention of sitting down and sharing a meal with this asshole. 

_ However _ … the food smells f-ing amazing. 

“Hi,” There are dark circles underneath his eyes. She doesn’t have to guess as to why they’re there. “I made some fried tuna with eggs.” 

“I’m gonna check the perimeter,” She mutters sourly. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone. Can you manage that?” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to respond. Rey disappears through the door with her handgun and a machete before he can even open his mouth. 

  
  


* * *

“Fucking idiot. He’s such a  _ moron _ . Yes, I fucked up, but you don’t fucking  _ throw  _ shit at people.” 

Oh, great… she’s losing her grip on reality. 

Just what this day needed. A mental break-down. 

“And I’m not a fucking  _ kid,  _ ass-face!” She screams in the general direction of the auto-shop. 

So, not her brightest idea what with all that’s going on. 

Everyone knows that sound attracts the infected. If they weren’t so secluded and far removed from the town, Rey might have been worried. 

_ They only show up at night anyway _ , her mind whispers to her,  _ you have nothing to worry about.  _

“Yeah… right.” If only it were that easy. 

A lot of what she’s learned has been through trial and error. One amongst them is to never assume you know  _ anything  _ about the undead. 

She sits down on a rock by the riverbank; grabbing pebbles from the shallow end. 

“He’s such an ass,” She murmurs again, tossing a stone into the water. “But so,  _ so,  _ hot. Why does he have to be so hot?” 

Another stone breaking the surface of the water. 

Rey’s always been a guarded person, even before all this happened. She had her small group of friends, which suited her just fine. In all honesty, she preferred to be outside the crowd rather than in it. 

She’d only had one serious boyfriend, and not even Jake woke these desires in her. 

_ Urgh… I’m starting to sound like an E.L James novel.  _

“Whatever,” She scoffs angrily. “I don’t need him. I’ve gotten along just fabulously on my own.” 

Rey hears him trecking through the forest- he’s not the most subtle ninja in the assassins league- taking tumbles every now and then. 

Then he comes to a grinding halt a mere foot away. 

She’s not budging. 

“If you came here to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.” 

Silence. 

Annoyed sighs erupt from her body. “If you’re just gonna stand there and ogle, you might as well turn around and walk back.” 

No answer. 

“And I swear to God, if you burned down the garage and you’re too afraid to tell me, I suggest you go with your instinct and run like the wind, Bonsai.” 

A low grunt. 

“Spit it out, already!” 

No response. 

Rey spins around, ready to throw a right hook at him, and freezes. 

That’s  _ not  _ Ben. 

“Ah, fuck.” 

  
  


* * *

Ben hadn’t meant for last night to get so out of hand. He’d just gotten so  _ incredibly  _ mad. She’d almost shot him because she hadn’t removed the safety while cleaning her sniper. 

When he’d looked to see who’d been trying to use him as target practice, the entire area had been empty. Not a single sentient being on any of the surrounding roofs. 

That means just must have run away. 

How long had Rey been watching him? 

_ Since the first day _ . 

That day in the alley… when he’d heard the gasp. Ben had always assumed that it had been a stray dog or something, but now he’s not so sure anymore. 

The more logical explanation would be that she had been just as surprised to see him as he was. 

It’s not like he looks un-intimidating. With a quite impressive build and hardened eyes, it’s not a surprise that she decided to steer clear. 

He flips one of the eggs- something he’d stolen from a birds nest outside- and ponders over that day closely. 

What  _ had  _ he been doing before she’d fired? 

It’s unlikely that Rey had actually been cleaning her gun- it would have been smarter to do it here where all her equipment is- so that leads him to the conclusion that she’d been keeping an eye at him. 

That’s right… he’d come to the gas station. 

Then the infected had chased him off. The horde had followed him for a few blocks before he’d jumped behind a dumpster. 

What else? 

He’d wiped the sweat from his palms, and then he’d lifted his shirt to wipe-

_ Oh…  _ **_oh!_ ** _ Oooh.  _

She’d been checking out his abs.  _ That’s  _ what got her riled up enough to accidentally fire her gun, no pun intended? 

Though he guesses that he shouldn’t be surprised. He had worked hard for them after all. And people get lonely in apocalypses. 

She was probably thirsty as fuck right now. 

Ben slaps his greasy palm against his face. 

She’d gotten so horny that she’d taken a shot at him. There’s gotta be some irony in there somewhere. 

He needs to find her. 

Ben shuts the door tightly behind him and then places an empty crate of milk-bottles- also empty- propped against it in case of intruders. 

The girl was anything but subtle. He can see where she’s sliced her machete through the local flora. 

_ It’s not a jungle, tiger. You didn’t need to claw your way through.  _

He knows that she’d done it out of anger, but still. 

Once he gets further into the woods, he realizes that something’s not right. There’s absolutely no sound. 

He looks around. 

_ So no… This is something else.  _

And it clicks. Where are the birds? 

“Motherfucker!” 

He hears the bang of a gun a little further in. 

_ Rey.  _

He sprints as fast as his legs can carry him. 

He reaches the river bank and he fears he may be too late. 

One of the infected has fallen over her body as they’d both toppled into the cool water. 

“Rey!” He screams. 

Ben wades through the ice-cold water; pulling the corpse off her. 

She’s not dead at least. But the branch embedded into her arm is cause for concern. 

“Shit.” His arms work on their own accord; pulling her upright. 

Water spews from her mouth rapidly. It’s almost as though she’d managed to swallow the entire river in one gulp. 

“Oh, fuck.” She lets out a loud cough and a groan. “And the championship title in Zombie-wrestling goes to Rey.” 

He breathes a sigh of relief. If she’s cognizant enough to joke, she’s probably okay. 

_ Relatively _ okay that is. 

Ben grabs her arm gently; twisting it side to side in slight motions to assess the damage. 

“It’s not broken,” He states. “That’s a relief.” 

“Yeah, for you maybe. Meanwhile, I’ve got fucking  _ Groot  _ crawling his way into my f-ing humerus.” 

“Huh. I didn’t expect that.” 

“Expect what?” Ben helps her to her feet. 

“For you to know what an upper arm is called in Latin.”

Oh, damn. Not good. Very, very not good. She’s gonna throttle him and use his corpse as a doormat. 

“I only meant that you were studying engineering. Where did you learn Latin?” 

“At Non-ya.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Non-ya business.” 

Ouch… he’s gonna need some Neosporin for that burn. 

“Okay, I probably deserve that.” 

“You think?” She’s seething. 

Again: not good. Very  _ not  _ good. 

“Alright, tiger. Let’s get you back to camp. We can fix this.” 

He helps her back to the garage- in brewing anger on her part and silence on his. 

Ben moves the crate out of the way and helps her through the door. 

“I’m fully capable of walking on my own, you know? I hurt my arm, not my legs.” 

“You could pass out from shock or blood loss.” 

She shrugs. “It honestly doesn’t hurt that much. It mostly just stings.” 

“It won’t in about ten minutes, though.” 

He walks her inside, locks the door, and goes searching for his bag. 

“Okay, you’re not gonna like this.” He starts threading the needle with some surgical thread he’d gotten from a vet station a few weeks ago and gets to work on sterilizing it over the open flame of his lighter. 

“This is gonna be good,” She murmurs. 

“I don’t have any anesthetic. The best I can give you is an aspirin.” 

“So you’re gonna repeatedly stab me with a sharp hook without at least some numbing cream? Great… just  _ great _ .” 

“Well, you  _ drank  _ the last of the booze so we don’t have much choice.” He takes the bottle of betadine from the kit as well. “I’m gonna have to flush out your wound.” 

“Go ahead.” 

Rey’s a surprisingly calm patient. She just sits there, only giving the occasional wince in pain. 

Ben starts thinking long-term- because he doesn’t really know any other way but planning. 

“So, I’ve been thinking.” 

She huffs out a small laugh. “Dangerous thing that.” 

He ignores her comment. “We can’t stay here. The infected are starting to become bolder. You mentioned yesterday that they usually only come out at night.” 

“ _ Usually  _ being the keyword there, cowboy. That doesn’t automatically mean  _ only _ . I got a good look at it though. The body was pretty fresh.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because, genius, it was still warm.” He swears he can hear her mutter  _ “The warmest thing I’ve had on top of me for a long while.”  _ but it could have just been the wind whispering what he wanted to hear. 

“Another survivor, maybe?” 

“You don’t say?” If sarcasm was a sport, she’d be an Olympic gold medalist. “Dude must have been desperate.”

“That will happen to you.” 

She nods. “You’ve been out there recently. How bad is it?” 

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Food and water have always been pretty scarce. You’d come across the occasional treasure-trove but they were few and far between. 

Getting medicine wasn’t  _ impossible _ , just very difficult. You’d need to get into the staff-section of a pharmacy or the hospital. 

You could forget about survival gear. All the hiking sections in every store had cleared out within hours of initial infection. 

“Pretty bad, to be honest. Between you, I, and the walls, humanity has less than a ten year supply left by my estimations. We could try federal reserves and stockpiles, but I don’t have high hopes.” 

“What places have you been most recent?” 

“New York the day of the outbreak. I was heading for Seattle when my car broke down. Casper was mostly a detour to get in touch with my superiors.” 

“Why were you going to Seattle?” 

“My… my family’s supposed to be there.” 

“Oh.” 

They hadn’t really discussed that part yet, apart from the fact that he had a family. 

“Are you still going?” She asks weakly. 

“Probably. Though they most likely got the Hell out of dodge the second it all went to shit. But I’m confident that they left a clue as to where they were going.” 

“I see.” She stumbles on her words. “Can- should- I mean, may I go with?” 

“I… sure. Do you still  _ want  _ to though? We get along like a house on fire.” 

“True… but it’s better than being alone again.” He can sympathize. “So how bad was it between here and New York?” 

“Bad. Bodies lined up on the street.” 

“Infected, you mean?” 

Silence. “No.” 

“Oh,” It dawns on her quickly.  _ Body-bags _ . “How about supplies?” 

“Not looking promising. I ate sparsely for weeks. You can forget all about Iowa. That place is a ghost town. I heard that the Canadian army nuked everything from Ontario all the way to Cedar Rapids.” 

“So… Seattle?” 

“What about it?” 

“That’s where we’re going?” 

“Yeah… that’s where we’re going.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the friendship train ;)


	5. Walk it, Talk it

**** “Darth Vader?” 

Fifteen minutes. They’d been walking for fifteen minutes when Rey had gotten bored and insisted on playing another round of twenty-questions. 

“You named your childhood puppy ‘Darth Vader’? That’s priceless.” She breathes out another howling laughter. 

“Keep it down, will you?” 

“Or what?  _ Darth Vader  _ going to come back from his grave to haunt me?” She hasn’t stopped laughing for minutes. It’s starting to get on his nerves. 

Correction: she’s getting on his  _ last  _ nerve. 

“ _ No _ , he won’t. But speaking of the undead haunting you from the beyond.” He motions about fifty feet ahead of them to a small horde of maybe five infected limping towards them. “You might not want to alert them to lunch-meat in the area.” 

“I take it we’re on the menu?” 

He cocks his brow as to say  _ “You think?” _

“Fine,” She throws her hands in the air in mock-surrender. “I’ll keep quiet. They probably haven’t even smelled us yet.” 

“Maybe not, but better to be on the-” 

“-safe side. Yeah, yeah, I got it.” She mutters tartly. “You’re no fun.” 

“And you’re a danger to society, but you don’t hear me complaining.” 

“To be fair, you just did.” 

He scouts ahead, determining that the odds are  _ not  _ in their favor. 

Ben rearranges his backpack hastily, taps the upper side of her still-healing arm and motions for her to follow him into a clearing. 

They’d have to steer clear of the main roads between Parkerton and Casper for now. There’s really no telling how many raiders were in the area. 

Her bubbly laugh breaks the previously peaceful silence. 

“But seriously! Darth Vader? Did you call him Darth for short?” She chortles out pig-like laughter. 

“I don’t know, alright! It just jumped out at me. I saw it somewhere in some of my mom’s old paperwork. And it sounded fitting. And his nickname was Vader, not that it matters.” He’s hissing like a cobra. Maybe more like a cobra on crack with how jumpy he’s acting. 

Ben grabs his ax from his belt, readjusts the bag for the second time that day- seriously, who the Hell had made these hippy-ass one-shoulder backpacks?- and moves towards the woods. 

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Rey exclaims when they’ve gotten out of sight from the main road. 

“We’re already playing one. It’s called  _ surviving.”  _

She swats his arm playfully. “No, I meant a real one. Like  _ I spy  _ or something. I’m bored.” 

“Duly noted,” Something he’s learned within the last few days is if Rey’s not happy, then no-one’s happy. 

“Oh come on, humor me! Hey, we could play  _ drunk or child _ .” 

“What the Hell is that?” 

“Oh, it’s when-” 

“No,” Ben cuts her off, pointing towards a bush in the distance. 

“Ben, that’s not how  _ I spy  _ works! See, you’re supposed to say ‘I spy with my eyes something-” 

“Will you be quiet for just a moment, attention-monster?” He quips back rather nastily. 

Rey huffs in anger. “Okay, obviously you’re not clear on the deal we made. See, you don’t get to tell me-” 

Ben only has a second to react. He grabs her from behind- his hand covering her mouth- and drags her into the thick foliage of a bush. 

Underneath his hand, he can feel her lips starting to move. Her throat emits a low, growling sound in annoyance. 

“ _ Ssh.  _ Be quiet.” The whisper is silent, but in the empty clearing, he may as well be shouting. 

She starts squirming. 

_ Oh, no _ . 

But it’s too late. 

He’ll blame it on the fact that his balls haven’t been emptied since- what feels like- the Nixon administration. 

It’s involuntary, he reminds himself. 

_ That’s not reassuring, like, at all.  _

And then she goes completely still. 

He can feel her mouth making an ‘o’ underneath his palm. 

This is how he dies, not in a hail of bullets, but from complete and utter shame. The humiliation is… wow… yeah. 

He peeks over the edge of the foliage towards the bush. It’s still moving. 

_ Unlike Rey _ . 

“Oh, shit.” He almost jumps out of every layer of his skin when the leaves part and something flies out of the bush. 

He closes his eyes hard so that every muscle in his face hurts; his grip on Rey tightening. 

And then exploding laughter. 

Her nails claw into the meaty section of his hand; dragging it away from her face. 

“Cause of death: rabbit scare.” 

_ What?  _

He opens his eyes and lo and behold… 

A fucking bunny.  _ That’s  _ what scared him. 

_ Please, God, I just have one request. Send down a lightning bolt and end me.  _

He’s never gonna hear the end of it from her. She’s going to tease him about this for years to come. 

Rey’s arms fly around her midsection as she gasps for breath. 

_ Oh, no _ .  _ Fuck, shit, fuck, damn, fuck- _

He’s not sure how much she knows about male anatomy. The gist of it is this: vibrations from laughter- or any movement really- feels  _ extremely  _ good against the male member. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” He gets up, dusts off his jeans- pine needles going everywhere- and braces himself for the humiliation. 

“We should really get going. We’ll want to find somewhere nice to camp.” He almost thinks she’s not gonna bring it up. 

_ Almost _ . “And you’ll want to find some ice for that ‘roll of mints’ you’re carrying in your front pocket.” 

Yeah. That’s about the reaction he was expecting. Ben scoffs; adjusting his length through his pants. “Oh, grow up, would you? It’s a natural reaction.” 

She snorts.  _ Snorts _ at him. “Yeah, I always get super hard when I’m scared.” 

“I-” 

“Come on, slowpoke.” She’s already disappearing deeper into the woods. “We don’t want that rabbit to get away.” 

"I'm guessing lunch?” 

Rey licks her lips in ravenous hunger. “Yup. Lunch.” 

  
  


* * *

Ben’s never cooked rabbit before. Hasn’t skinned one either, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s rather chewy, but all in all really succulent meat. 

“Have you  _ never  _ barbequed before?” 

Except that some parts were unevenly cooked, and Rey won’t let him forget it. 

“No,” He sighs. “Not on a spit. When there’s a grate, you just turn it over with tongs after a few minutes.” 

“It’s the same basic principle. To get an even surface, you have to keep turning it.” 

Ben jabs into the thigh so hard that it clicks roughly against the metal plate. “Then you should have said something.” 

Rey brings up a big, juicy piece of meat towards her lips. “Couldn’t. I was busy taking a nap.” 

“And I told you that napping could wait until we weren’t in such an exposed area.” 

That’s one big eye-roll. “Loosen up, would you? You’re always complaining about something.  _ ‘Oh, Rey, don’t walk so close to the ledge’  _ or  _ ‘Rey, don’t sing while you walk, it attracts infected’  _ or even  _ ‘Ooh, Rey, never have any fun, or we’ll die!”. _ ” Ben’s really not appreciating the level of sass coming from her. Especially not when she uses a very annoying tone. “Well, newsflash, you sphincter, it’s called  _ living _ .” 

“You did not just call me a sphincter.” 

“Did too. You’re about as uptight as one.” She retorts childishly. 

_ Day one of traveling: I already want to stab my traveling partner with a rusty spoon.  _

So, no… thus far the trip wasn’t going according to plan. In fact, it sucked balls traveling with such an impudent  _ child _ . She really had no mind for impulse-control. Whatever she wants to do, she does. 

It’s only a little after twelve p.m, and Ben seriously doubts they’ll  _ both _ make it to two. Ben can’t wait for them to find a safe place to sleep tonight, just so that he can ignore her for a few hours. 

It occurs to him then: “We should really talk about sleeping arrangements.” 

“Well, I mean we could sleep next to each other if that’s what you pref-” 

“That’s  _ not  _ what I meant. I meant taking turns sleeping. Someone will need to stay awake and keep watch. I propose you take first watch since you’ve already had a nap.” 

Rey shrugs and waves off his concerns. “We’ll figure it out later. If we’re lucky, we’ll find an abandoned house with a treehouse.” 

“Why a treehouse?” He asks. “I’m beginning to think you have a serious addiction to sniffing bark.” He points to the wound on her arm where the branch had gotten lodged the day before. 

“If that’s slang, I’m unfamiliar with it,” She states tartly. “If it’s literal-” 

_ Oh no, she didn’t.  _ “Are you quoting  _ the Big Bang Theory _ ?” 

She dabs her nose and points to him. “Bingo.” 

“I’m being serious, Rey. Why a treehouse?” 

She sighs in annoyance, whisking away a few strands of hair that have gotten plastered to her sweat-covered forehead. “Isn’t it obvious?” He shakes his head. “It’s high up, there’s only one way of entering, and we have the lay of the land. We could try an attic, but I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of not being able to escape.” 

“Still. An attic might be safer. We can lock the hatch and there’s no ladder.” 

“And with a locked hatch, we might not be able to escape in time. Problems. Problems everywhere.” Ben hasn’t seen a lot of meme’s in his days, but he recognizes the movement that she’s doing with her hands as a scene from  _ SpongeBob  _ where a magical rainbow appears between his palms. 

“I see your point, but I still think that we’d be safer if we could lock the door. And what if it starts raining?” 

She tosses the last piece of charred meat back into the fire. “Are you always this pessimistic?” 

“I’m a realist. There’s a difference.” 

“Not from where I’m standing. It’s ninety degrees outside, Ben. There’s barely any moisture in the air. And it’s a cloudless day. You’re thinking about rain when there’s blaring sunshine outside.” 

He can feel his anger spiking. “Well, one of us has to. You’re always too busy thinking of ways to have fun instead of the consequences.” 

She looks about ready to tear her hair out. “Newsflash, B-hole, life is about  _ living _ .” 

“It’s also about  _ survival _ .” He argues. “And don’t call me B-hole again.” 

“Well, you’re acting like one.” She mutters tartly, shuffling her food around her plate. 

Okay, that does it. 

The metal plate gives off a disturbing  _ clang  _ when it hits the rock. “And you’re acting like a fucking  _ child _ .” Ben bares his teeth. “If you’d spend  _ half  _ the energy that you put into having fun on something constructive, we’d be further along. Instead, I’m stuck in the middle of the woods with an immature, reckless, petulant kid who has just about as much attention span as a chihuahua on crack cocaine.” 

_ And fuck.  _

Yup. He’d gone too far. She’s not gaping at him, per se, but that’s as close as he can get to describing the disappointed look on her face. Her eyes convey a clear message: you’re dead to me. 

“Everyone I have loved or cared about has either died or left me.” He can see a tear slowly working its way down her cheek. Soon another one follows. “I never had parents, okay? I grew up in a broken system. I bounced from house to house, and it never felt like home. The day I turned sixteen, I applied for emancipation because my foster dad neglected me. I went days without food because of that  _ asshole _ .”

She takes a deep breath and continues. Ben’s not sure he’ll want to hear it, but she’s not giving him any other option but to listen. 

“Two days after the outbreak, I lost two of my best friends. And then I lost another one less than a month later. I’ve forgotten more about grief than most people learn. So yes, I’m all of those things.” Rey starts listing them on her fingers. “I’m immature, I’m reckless, I’m a petulant kid.” Then she starts listing things that he hadn’t said, but that he knows all too well about her. “I’m hot-tempered, I don’t take directions very well, I hate being told what to do, sometimes I drink too much, and I stopped caring about survival a long time ago.” 

She stops. 

“But I’m also smart and resourceful. Every single one of my weaknesses, I’ve turned into strengths. I’ve been ready to die for a  _ long  _ time now.” 

“So why haven’t you?” 

She keeps one hand around her midsection and the other is wiping away the tears. Rey rocks on the balls of her feet, almost as though she’s trying to soothe herself. 

“I don’t know. I honestly can’t tell you what’s kept me going for this long. Maybe it’s some stone-age survival crap that keeps me from walking into a horde of infected and just ending it. Or maybe I’m just too much of a coward.” 

He knows all about being a coward and running away. 

Ben’s been doing it for years. 

  
  


* * *

They don’t speak for the rest of the day. 

Rey keeps lagging a few paces behind; barely keeping it together. 

Normally, Ben would rejoice a few moments of peace and quiet, but not like this. 

This is the kind of silence you get from someone you hurt deeply. 

He wants to open his mouth and speak- apologize for being such a dolt; beg for her forgiveness- but every time the words die in his throat. 

Ben’s fucked up many times before. 

He’s hurt everyone he’s ever loved more times than he can count. Leia, Han, Luke, Chewie… he’s let everyone down. 

He spots a house down the end of a road. The entire neighborhood is completely deserted. There isn’t a single car left on the block. The windows are empty, the yards are overgrown, trash litters every inch of the streets, and the air smells foul from something rotting. 

Probably food if he had to guess. 

One house stands out from the rest. It’s a little bit more secluded and it borders the edge of the forest. Something about it gives him a bad feeling, but they need to settle for the night. 

“We’ll sleep here tonight. It’s too late to move any further today.” 

“Alright,” He hates how the defeat seeps into her voice. 

Is he really that much of an asshole? Is this somehow beyond repair? 

_ No…  _

Even if he dies trying, Ben will make it up to her. 

“I think we need to discuss the game-plan.” He says after they’ve stepped through the door. The one-shoulder backpack ends up on the dusty modular sofa in the living room. “The backyard doesn’t have a treehouse.” 

“It’s fine,” She mutters. He tries to ignore the way her lip trembles. Keyword being _try._

“Alright,” He says dejectedly. “We can sleep in here on the couch. I’ll take first watch.” There’s no reply. He’d honestly be more surprised if there was. 

They haven’t spoken since lunch. They haven’t eaten since then either. 

“I’ll go scrounge up some food.” He opens up his bag. “Do you want canned tuna or peaches?” 

“I’m not fussed.” 

“Meaning?” 

She shrugs. “I’m fine with either.” 

“Peaches it is then.” He grabs two cans, handing her one. "Come on. Let's go eat." They walk further into the house- past the kitchen through a broken-down door- and steps into the dining hall. It's dark and dusty, but the chairs look relatively sturdy. 

They sit in the dining room, eating their dinner in silence. 

It’s true what they say about how silence is deafening. He can hear the sound of his toes moving inside his shoes.

Ben clears his throat, just so he can hear someone’s voice. 

She looks up at him. 

At first, she’s sad.

And then that turns to horror. 

“Ben!” 

There’s not enough time. 

He doesn’t see the perpetrator sneaking up behind her before it’s too late. 

And then he blacks out. 

_ Yup… this seems about where he expected to end up today.  _

* * *

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait TT^TT I was updating one of my other fics.


	6. Canibal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The title has something to do with the chapter, just saying. It’s also a song by Kesha. Go have a listen ^^  
>  ******

Rey often dreams about dying. 

_ Wow… Suicidal much?  _

And, no, it’s not that. It’s just that she dreams of an  _ epic  _ end. 

One where everything burns down in a smoky inferno that can be seen all the way to Mars. Nobody wants to be forgotten. Nobody wants their death to be pointless. Statistically, she’s more likely to eat it in a zombie-snack-attack, but it’s nice to have goals. 

The reason why she’s thinking about it is because of the head-splitting ache that’s knock-knock-knocking against her skull like a woodpecker.

This  _ has  _ to be the end. Either she dug way too deep into the bottle the night before- which is silly because her stock ran dry days ago- or someone subjected her to one of Professor Ackbar’s hour-long droning lectures (mass-murder) where he literally spent the entire time talking about his time in the navy. 

Or, option number three- and by far the most likely- someone zapped her in the back of the head with a tailpipe and she’s currently chained up to a radiator in some creep’s basement. 

She opens her eyes, recoils from the light, and grunts. The chain rattles against the wall. 

Yeah… definitively option three. 

“So… staying in the house for the night, bad idea.” Rey turns to the right, where Ben’s sitting; foot attached to a similar chain. 

Always the tone of surprise in his voice. Of  _ course, _ it had been a bad idea! Was there ever any doubt? This is exactly why she never stays in any of the perfectly good houses in town and always sticks to her garage. Less chance of someone getting the jump on her. 

“Well, as far as bad ideas go, this  _ has _ to be one of your worst.” She quips sarcastically. 

“Duly noted,” The chain on his leg rattles loudly against the concrete floor. It smells like a fucking sewer down here. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” 

“No arguments here.” 

He ignores her comment, even though it’s true. “How are we gonna get out?” 

She glances at his leg, then at his face. “Have you seen  _ Saw? _ ” 

“You’re  _ not  _ cutting off my leg!” He yells loudly. 

“Who said anything about me doing it?” She rattles the handcuff around her wrist. “I’ve got my own thing going here. A sequel to  _ 127 hours _ .” 

“You’re really fucking morbid, you know that? This is not the time for humor. And I categorically refuse to cut off my own leg.” 

Rey rolls her eyes. Always so dramatic. “Then I guess we’re shit out of luck. And it’s all your fault.” She points out tartly. 

Fuck being nice. Nice-o’clock had  _ long  _ since passed. 

“Blaming me is pointless. We just need to find a way out of this mess, alright. It can’t be the first problem you’ve ever run into.” 

“No, but I didn’t have  _ this  _ problem until you came along.” She screams. 

For all of her recklessness, Rey never managed to get herself into this much trouble before she met Ben. She kept her head done, obeyed by the rules, and played it-  _ relatively _ \- safe. 

She’s never been kidnapped before, so that’s a first. This never would have happened if Ben hadn’t tricked her into staying the night in the house. 

She grunts in annoyance, looking at the staircase. “Has anyone come down yet?” 

Ben shakes his head. “No. But I only woke up a few minutes ago.” 

“Great,” Rey mutters. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what they want.” 

Ben snorts loudly. In the emptiness of the very cramped, ill-lit basement it may as well have been roaring laughter. Every wall gives off an echo and it’s incredibly unsettling. 

“I’m a man and you’re a woman-”

“Astutely put.” 

“I’m dinner and you’re the entertainment.” 

Vomit-express incoming. “Urgh, did you really have to bring that up?” 

“Well, you asked.” He murmurs like a petulant child. 

“Actually I didn’t. I made a  _ statement _ . If I’d wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.” 

“No, you wouldn’t.” He sulks. 

Yeah… he’s right. She probably wouldn’t.

But Ben doesn’t need to know that. She’ll let him stew for a little while longer. 

  
  


* * *

Sitting in complete silence proves to be like an itch against her last good nerve. The waiting is making her antsy. 

Rey’s done plenty of waiting in her life but never like this. 

It’s a lot like waiting for your execution. 

_ Great. I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like being on Death Row.  _

She’s living some kind of Stephen King novel she just wants to escape from. Ben tries several times to cheer her up. As if that’s gonna happen. 

Though no one’s come down to the basement, Rey can hear the footfalls against the floor above. Someone’s clearly inside the house. 

“We could try and jimmy the lock,” Ben tries again; looking around for something to use. “See if you can find something small, like a hairpin or something.” 

“What’s the point? Even if we got out of these cuffs, then what? Make a break for it and hope they don’t shoot us both?” 

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Then what do you suggest, huh? Just sit here and wait to get eaten.” 

Rey scoffs. “Well, to be fair, I’m just the entertainment.  _ You’re  _ the main course.” 

“And that doesn’t concern you in the least?” She cocks her brow as to say ‘really?’. “Okay, stupid question. But you don’t seem all that worried.” 

“I am. I just don’t let it get to me.”

He wants to say something- probably something clever in response- but the door to the basement bangs open before he can open his mouth. 

The man who comes down is not what Rey was expecting. He almost looks… normal. A little bit too boney, and his hair could do with a cut, but otherwise he could have been someone’s dad. 

She can just picture him as the kind of man who would drive his kids to soccer practice. 

He stops in front of her outstretched feet- leering at both her and Ben with different kinds of hunger- and crouches down low. 

The gun in his hand doesn’t escape her notice. 

“So… I’m betting you’re wondering why you’re here.” 

“Nah,” Rey shrugs. “We’re good.” 

“Meaning?” 

She points at Ben. “Meaning we’ve already figured it out. You’re gonna eat him and screw me. Am I right?” 

Their captor chuckles darkly. “A man has needs.” Is all he offers in reply. 

“And are you planning on sharing me with your buddies?” 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “There ain’t no friends. Just me.” 

Rey snorts. “Yeah, right.” 

“Don’t you get sassy with me, girl.” 

She ignores him. “There were at least two people at the house. One to knock me out and one to take care of my friend over there.” She motions towards Ben. He looks at her with suspicion.  _ Patience, grasshopper _ . “I’m willing to bet there was even someone to drive the truck.” 

“There was no truck. I dragged you here.” 

“We haven’t been out that long, I’m guessing. And there’s no way we’re still in the same neighborhood. The houses along that street were one-story with no basements. I’m guessing you’ve been following us for a while. You and your goons.” 

“It’s just  _ me _ .” He points the gun towards her head. 

So maybe she has a little bit of a death-wish; inciting a killer and possible rapist, but her plan seems to be working. 

“I’m willing to bet my last penny that they’re already planning how to get me for themselves. And my friend over there might be bulky, but there’s not a whole lot of meat on a human. Mostly it’s just muscles and fat. You’ll run out by tomorrow.” 

“Shut,  _ up _ .” 

This is new. She’s never stared down the barrel of a gun before. 

“You won’t pull the trigger. Even if I don’t turn, I won’t be much fun to use when I’m dead.” 

Their captor seems to be mulling it over in his head for a moment. Once he’s done deliberating, he gets up from his crouched position and looks towards the door. 

_ Fall into my web, little fly.  _

“Just count yourself lucky that you’re pretty. But even my mercy has limits,  _ girl _ . I’m gonna enjoy breaking you in.” He disappears up the creaky stairs. 

“Not as much as I’ll enjoy spitting on your corpse when I escape.” She mutters into the empty air.

Rey turns her head to Ben. 

“Okay, either you’ve gone full “Alice in Wonderland”, or you have a plan.” 

If she could reach her nose, she would have dabbed it. 

“Envy is a green-eyed monster.” 

“So I’ve heard. What of it?” Ben asks. 

_ Really?  _ “Do I need to spell it out for you?” 

“Please do,” Ben states tartly. “How is this gonna work in our favor?” 

“Who knows?” She shrugs. “Maybe it’ll backfire. But it was worth a shot.” 

He purses his lips pensively. “So just to clarify, is it worth taking the risk or the bullet he’s gonna put in your head for trying to piss him off?” 

“Meh. Both.” 

He huffs out a whoop. “Right. So you’re just insane. Good to know.” 

And then comes the kind of thing she’s been waiting for.  _ People are so stupid _ . It starts with an argument. She can’t make out what they’re saying, but the voices soon get louder. 

_ And right into the trap, he goes _ . 

It all ends in a hail of bullets. 

If she could use any word to describe it, Rey would go with ‘music’. Like a symphony of pops and grunts. 

“Nice weather we’ve been having the past couple of weeks.” 

Ben just gawks openly at her. 

It’s over in under ten minutes. 

She looks over at Ben who’s still busy gawking at her. 

“You’re one manipulative bitch.” 

Rey smirks. “I have my moments.” As to prove her point, her wrist slips out of the cuffs easily. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I have my moments. Well, actually, no. I just have slim wrists.” 

Rey quickly gets to work on the lock around his ankle. It’s a little bit more difficult. “Do you have something I can use to pick this lock?” She looks at it. It should be easy enough with the right tools. 

“Do I look like I have a spare key in my pocket?” He retorts sarcastically. 

“Fine. Fair point.” Rey looks around. A screwdriver would be too big, and a bobby pin too small. She spots a big concrete block a few feet away. 

“No,” He follows her eyes with his. “Not a chance. You could accidentally drop it on my foot.” 

“Well-” She gets up, grabs the heavy object- seriously, her knees are buckling from the weight- and drops it onto the chain. It snaps quickly on account of all the rust. “Done.” 

“Not really,” Ben gets up, dusting off his pants. “It’s still attached to my leg.” 

“Meh… details. We’ll get the key from the s.o.b upstairs.” Rey gives him a wink. “Let’s put our differences aside and get out of here.” 

He smiles. “Sounds good. Lead the way.” 

  
  


* * *

The carnage sort of reminds Rey of an  _ Agatha Christie  _ novel. Blood is splattered on the wall like some sort of sick art project. The air smells heavily of spent ammo casings. 

“I think I know where we are.” 

Her fingers follow his extended finger out the window. 

“That’s one big sign.” 

_ Casper _ . Of course, they were the same raiders. 

She glances around the room, spotting their captor propped up against the wall; gun still in his hand. And Rey’s someone who keeps her promises. She spits on his corpse, right on his face. 

“I guess he owes you a penny,” Ben laughs in shock. 

She fishes her lucky coin out of her pocket. 

“That’s alright. I’ve got all I need right here.” 

They leave the house of horrors, heading West with the stolen car, food to last for a month- no meat, thank God- and enough gun to supply a small infantry. 

And Rey finally gets that drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, you didn’t really think that it’d be that serious, right? This is pure crack, through and through. ******


	7. Drive-By

“So… what do you think?” 

Well... Rey can honestly say that there’s _nothing_ special about beef-jerky. It's way too salty and it just tastes like the vapors of a wood-fire. Whoever said hickory went with everything had probably mouth-fucked a can of it. 

“It’s… food.” 

“You don’t like it?” 

She shrugs casually. “Not really.” 

Ben hums absentmindedly, flicking the ashes off a stale cigarette he’d found out the open window. Thank some form of diety that the weather was pleasant at least. 

The last couple of weeks has been nothing but balmy, humid, ass-sweat inducing, oven-like heat with the occasional tropical rain. Nothing beats the feeling of being roasted alive. 

“Is it the taste?” He glances at the jerky. “Do you think it’s gone bad?” 

She hands him the packet and wipes the grease off her fingers against her bare thighs. “I honestly don’t think beef-jerky can go bad. I just don’t understand your people’s dependency on smoked meats.” 

“Just as I don’t understand _your_ people’s predilection for tea,” 

“Are you kidding me?” He purses his lips with a shrug and a headshake. “Tea is a universal thing, you know? The entire world drinks it.” She licks her fingers clean. After all, food is food. 

“Maybe not so much anymore.” 

She looks out the window at the open plains as Ben takes them through Yellowstone national park. 

“No… maybe not so much anymore,” She agrees soberly. 

  


* * *

They’ve been driving for the past couple of hours uninterrupted. 

And when she says _they_ what she really means is Ben because he won’t give her the fucking wheel. 

What is it with blokes thinking that women can’t fucking drive? Rey’s a mechanic- _e-hm_ studying to be a mechanic- she knows how to drive a car. 

Okay, so maybe she had crashed a few times. And by a few, she means three. Once into a fence, the second time she wrapped the truck around a pole, and the third… well, Rey still maintains that the trashcan dove in front of her. 

But Ben doesn’t know that, nor does he need to. 

It’s not her fault that she has competitive friends who keep suggesting that they should race. 

_Had_ . She _had_ friends. Once upon a long-ass time ago, when the world hadn’t been so fucked up. 

And then there might be the fact that she’s halfway through a bottle of _Jack Daniels_ that they raided from the trunk of the car. 

“What does the map say?” 

She snorts. “The map doesn’t say shit. It’s a _map_ , Benny-boy.” Rey slaps the paper loudly. “Oh, no, I was wrong. It says we’re lost.” She shakes the bottle in her hand, pointing it at him. 

“I’m good,” He says, keeping his eyes peeled on the road. 

Those forearms will be the death of her. 

One would think with how badly they get along that there’s no way in Hell she should still be this thirsty. For the record, it’s only gotten worse. 

Rey has the thirst of fifty men lost in a desert. 

Why does he have to be so young? And sexy? And, _God_ , so, so shredded? 

“You’re drooling.” 

_Ground, swallow me whole._

“Am not.” 

She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. True enough, it’s wet and sticky. 

“Am too.” 

He likes teasing. Ben must realize by now that she’s carrying a serious torch for him. So the question remains: Why hasn’t he acted on it? 

“Look ahead.” 

She does, watching as the sweltering sun makes the steam dance across the open road. “I don’t see anything.” 

“To the right, genius. The farmhouse.” 

Yes, there is indeed a farmhouse to their right. 

“So? What of it?” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “We’re stopping, obviously.” 

“Or we keep on driving.” 

He sighs. “We could do that. But we’d be stupid to not at least search it for supplies.” 

Rey turns her head over her shoulder. “Have you seen _Aladdin's_ treasure-trove in the back seat?” 

“Yeah, I have. But we could always use more.” 

She snorts. Ben just knows that a sass-attack is incoming. “And who’s gonna carry it all if, and what I really mean is _when_ , the car breaks down? The imaginary mule in the trunk? We have _maybe_ enough gas to get us another forty miles.” 

He wipes some sweat off his brow. “I heard you the last time you brought it up. That’s why I turned off the AC, which sucks, by the way. I’m drowning over here.” 

_Don’t worry, I’ll lick the sweat off you if you ask._

She shudders. _No, stop thirsting, bitch_. 

“I’ve noticed,” She says, trying to sound as aloof as possible as though she’s not going through a major drought. “If we want to play it safe, we keep driving. Eventually, we’ll find another car we can siphon.” 

“And why is it-” 

“Because, every time you start the car, it drinks about a gallon of fuel. And the heavier the load, the more the car slurps.” 

“Kind of like you with booze, then?” 

_Oomph, there it is._ The reason why Rey’s interests in this douce are purely physical. 

Rey shakes her head in resignation. The message just doesn’t seem to sink in. “Fine… do what you want. It’s not like I can stop you anyway.” 

Ben turns on the indicator and turns off the main road. 

“You do realize that it's still dangerous, right?" She points to the lever. "Turning on the indicator is like you signaling to every raider out there where we’re heading. Ring the dinner-bell a little louder, would you?” 

“Fine,” He hisses out through gritted teeth. “I’ll stop myself next time.” 

“Good.” She knows he won't. She's brought it up before. 

The country road is bumpy enough for her lungs to get pushed into her throat. She can feel the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. Ben turns off the ignition, grabs his gun from his holster, and steps out of the car. It’s surprisingly small for a farmhouse, she finds herself thinking.

“Wait here.” 

_Sure, Skippy. When pigs start flying._

The gravel underneath her boots crunches loudly. 

“What part of “stay in the car” didn’t you get?” 

“All of it. I’m not a damsel in distress. I can take care of myself,” She bangs the car door in protest. “And you could use the extra set of eyes.” 

“You’re drunk.” He points out. “And I can take care of myself, too.” 

Another snort. “Right. Remind me again what happened at the gas station?” 

“It went well until you decided to shoot at me.” 

_Tits…_ He’s got her there. 

“At least I didn’t throw a rusted tin-can at you,” _Except, yes._ He cocks his brow. “Whatever. You threw it first. And the whole debacle with the cannibals was your fault.” 

“I apologized! And it worked out in the end, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah… barely.” 

He ignores her.

“I’m gonna kick down the door. Stand back.” Ben takes a couple of deep breaths and stepping back to gain some momentum. 

_It’s a B &E, not the fucking world series in high-jump. _

Rey turns the handle and pushes the door wide open. 

When Ben barrels through the open arch, it’s too late to slow down. 

This is why communication is key. 

Rey hears a loud crash as his massive body collides with the wall. 

“Fuck.” 

“Tits,” Leaves her mouth. “That could have gone better. She peeks her head through the doorway. “You alright?” 

Ben grunts from his flopped, curled up position on the floor. 

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that there are no infected in here. They would have come running after that.” She states. 

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm falling from his plump lips is a rare occurrence. He pulls something from underneath his body that he’d fallen on top of; pulling it into view. “Uncanny foresight, universe. I was just about to ask for a hand.” 

It’s almost fully skeletonized- only sinew and patch flesh left- but it is indeed a hand. 

Rey chortles loudly; slapping her knees. “I couldn’t have planned it better myself.” 

Even Ben manages a laugh. It’s a good atmosphere. 

These walls haven’t echoed with laughter in years. 

It seems that Ben is finally embracing Rey’s way of living. 

After all, it’s the only _right_ way to live. With humor, carefreeness, and lots of laughter. 

  


* * *

For all the constructional flaws- one amongst them being the Ben-shaped hole in the wall- the house is actually rather quaint. Rey doesn’t know a whole lot about houses- the only ones she can remember living in were run-down, overflowing with other foster-kids, and seriously lacking in the cleanliness department- but this place has that certain _Joie de vivre_. 

She would have given anything for a place like this growing up. 

She can just picture it. Sunday breakfast by the kitchen island, playing catch in the backyard, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pancakes frying on the stove, the family dog wagging its tail as it chases the kids around, the fireflies dancing in the night air, freshly mowed grass against bare feet… 

Everything she never had. 

“Clear!” Ben hollers from upstairs. 

“Clear down here, too.” She hollers back, taking a huge sip of whiskey. 

He stomps his way down to the first floor; a piece of confetti stuck to his boot. “It’s pretty gnarly up there. I think the kids were throwing a birthday party when-” 

He doesn’t elaborate. Then again, there’s no need. 

Rey spots the rotting cake on the kitchen island; completely rotten. “Yeah… Ten.” 

“What?” 

She points to the cake. “Ten years old. Man, that sucks. Did you find any bodies?” 

“No. Did you?” 

She shakes her head. “No car either. They got away.” 

They both know that the chances of survival were slim to none. They _know_. But they won’t say it. The world’s fucked up enough… they don’t need a dead ten-year-old on their mind as well. 

“Alright,” He mutters. “I know you don’t like the idea of sticking around, but this place would be ideal.” 

“It really wouldn’t. It’s too out in the open. Anyone could turn right from the road and end up in the front yard. Plus, it has no fence.” 

“Neither did the auto shop.” Fair point. 

“Why the sudden interest in putting down roots? We’re supposed to be heading to Seattle… aren’t we?” No reply. “Ben? Aren’t we?” 

He sighs, letting his arms fall limp against his body. “I don’t know. Part of me just knows that they’re not gonna be there. It’s a big city. If they stuck around, chances…” He takes a deep breath. “Chances are they’re dead.” 

“That doesn’t mean you should give up.” 

“Hope is a fickle thing, you know?” He huffs out a laugh. “My mother had this saying that hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you’ll never make it through the night.” 

“Your mom seems like a smart woman.” 

Ben nods slowly. “Yeah… she is.” _Was_ , hangs unspoken. 

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Should we stay the night at least?” 

“Sure. This place seems nice enough.” 

“Not secure?” 

No… definitively not. 

“It’ll do for the night.” 

“Fine. I’m not gonna argue. I’m sure you know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ouch,” She throws her hand to her chest in pure mockery. “I’m deeply hurt by your sass.” 

“It actually wasn’t, but good to know.” He gives her something akin to a smile, but that could just be her imagination. “Seriously though. The auto-shop was really secure. I trust you.” 

To him, it probably seemed like nothing. That word… _trust._

But to her, it was everything. 

Everything plus the world. 

  


* * *

Rey can’t sleep. 

Ben’s snoring softly from where he’s lying less than two feet away. 

Because of the heat, they’d cracked open the windows. 

Ben, the tosser, had taken off his shirt, oblivious to her struggle. The sleeping-bag did little to cover his glorious nakedness. 

Well… naked torso. 

She stares at every bump, every ridge, and every sinew of muscle. There are scars- a plethora of them- and each one of them has a story. One, a deep gash across his ribcage, must have been excruciatingly painful. 

Her eyes wander to his washboard abs. There’s no way to tell the origin of the puncture there, but it must have been deep enough to hit organs. The patch-work looked dismal- barely even that. 

_Must have happened on assignment._

It can’t be that old either. It still carries that faint pink of freshness, kind of like a new car smell. 

In the moonlight, all she can make out is silhouettes. A nose, the apples of his cheeks, his jutting chin, and the parted, pouty lips. 

She’d been wrong… there’s nothing unfortunate about a face like that. It’s charming. It’s not really the right word, but Rey can’t accurately describe it. It just… _is_. 

And it’s totally him. 

Like the way he walks, smells, and the way the nerve underneath his eyes twitch with his entire body when he’s pensive. 

At some point, Rey hits ‘fuck it’. They only live once. She’s not about to squander this time they have together, however long or brief. 

“Ben?” _Nothing_ . “Ben?” _Not a peep._

She kicks him softly- not really- in the ribs. 

“Ben!” 

He grunts loudly; arms flying to his midriff. 

“What the fuck, Rey?” 

“Sex?” 

_Mental facepalm._

Not “I want to have sex” or even “I’m open for the idea of having sex”. 

“What?” 

She sighs and tries again. “Do you want to have sex?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah, probably not. A lot of things aren’t a good idea, and people still do it.” 

He snorts. His arm moves from his abdomen to his face. “Not anymore.” 

“No… not anymore. But they used to.” 

No response. 

_Fuck it… I’ve officially hit fuck it._

She moves out of her sleeping bag, crawls on all fours to where he’s lying and straddles his waist. 

Ben moves his hand just an inch; just enough to look her in the eye. His Adam’s apple bobs. “Rey.” 

“No talking. Just do me.” 

“No… not like this.” 

“Yes like this.” Her nails make a path down his broad chest. Ben hisses in pleasure, or possibly pain. 

“Why?” 

She freezes. “What do you mean why?” 

“I mean, why now? We’ve got a good thing going.” 

It seems Rey’s found the only man who’s not up for sex. In an apocalypse- where she’s quite possibly the last living female- no less. 

_Figures… God’s not_ that _kind._

“Well, between us fighting like bulls and getting caught by cannibals, now seems like the perfect time. We’re alone, in a secluded place, not in danger. You know that I find you attractive-”

“I had my suspicions.” He admits. 

Rey ignores him. “So why _not_ now? If not us, then who? If not now, then when?” 

Ben cocks his brow. “You did not just quote John Lewis.” 

She nods curtly. “Bitch, I might’ve.” Rey shakes her head. “Do you think I’m ugly?” 

“Don’t do that.” His hand moves to her wrist. She swears sparks fly when they touch. _Hand to my heart, I’m telling the truth._ “Of course you’re not ugly. You’re beautiful. But we don’t have protection.” 

“So? You could just pull out?” 

Ben sighs deeply. “I weep for the American sex-education system.” He shakes his head firmly. “That’s not really effective. Besides, it doesn’t protect from STDs.” 

“Do you have one?” 

“No.” His fingers start moving against her arm. Involuntarily, she starts moaning. Her hips move on their own. She’s like a woman possessed. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, followed by another gulp. “Do- do you?” 

“No.” The moan that leaves her mouth is almost inhuman. “Please, Ben. I’m begging you.” 

“Alright.” 

_Scratch the record… what?_

She looks down at his face through half-lidded eyes. His pupils are the size of saucers. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He replies. “Okay.”

“Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** >:D I know I’m evil for leaving the chapter here. =U= ******


	8. Pillowtalk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Please mind the platform: smut train incoming. Extra points to anyone who can spot the Bioshock Infinite quote. ___
> 
> __**Song: Pillowtalk by ZAYN ******_ _

It’s… awkward. 

Rey thought that sex with Ben would be like being on the set of a porno. Loud moaning, skilled hands, a little bit filthy- i.e a lot- and mind-blowing orgasms. 

It’s really not. 

He fumbles with the zipper of her jeans like an over-eager teenager getting his first nookie. 

At one point, he tries flipping them over. It was supposed to be gracious and smooth. Instead, he accidentally hits her head against the floor with a loud thump. 

“Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

She rubs the sore spot. “Total lady-boner killer. But yes, I’m fine.” She takes a deep breath. “Let’s try again.” 

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

“Sor-” 

_ Oh for fuck’s sake.  _

This time, Rey’s taking charge of the situation. Ben obviously can’t be trusted with this. 

She looks down at his legs; hoping to see a glimpse of him through his jeans. Instead, nothing. Not even a bump. 

“Eh, speaking of boner killers.” 

He scrunches his face in discomfort. “Sorry. I’m just nervous. It’s been a while.” 

“For the record, you had no problem when we were pressed up against each other in the forest.” 

“Yeah, well…” He grabs her shorts, yanking them down roughly. Okay, that’s  _ hot _ . “Back in the forest, there was no pressure. It just came naturally.” 

“So just do what comes naturally.” 

His fingers whisper against the skin inside her thighs, moving towards her soaked underwear. Rey lets out a startlingly loud moan. 

“Keep going.” 

It takes five minutes. Repeating:  _ five  _ minutes, for him to realize that she hadn’t meant for him to keep doing  _ exactly  _ what he was doing. 

After a minute, it had started tickling. 

The one that followed just felt uncomfortable. 

The next three was just pure agony and embarrassment, mostly over his awkward fumbling. 

“Just stop.” 

“I thought you said-” 

“Keep going  _ upwards _ , you dolt!” 

“Right. I’ll do better.” 

_ Doubtful. Very doubtful.  _

Though, smaller miracles have occurred. Jesus rising from the tomb comes to mind. 

It’s not that she’s mad. Just frustrated, sexually speaking. Every minute he’s not inside of her is another minute wasted. 

“Take off your pants.” Like teaching a kid how to swim… 

“I… don’t you want more foreplay?” 

“Eh, no. Let’s just say foreplay isn’t your strong suit.” 

“Geez, thanks for the  _ constructive  _ criticism.” 

_ Damn.  _ Maybe she’s been too hard on him- yes, pun intended, ‘cause something needs to be hard around here. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long time. I’m just eager.” 

“How do you think  _ I  _ feel?” He argues; pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s not like riding a bike, okay? For me, it’s personal. I’ve been told I have a hard time letting people in.” 

“I don’t.” 

“What are you talking about? You’re- oh.” Oh, indeed. 

She wiggles her brows suggestively. “See what I did there?” 

“Letting in, as in inside-” 

Rey grabs his zipper. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not funny if you explain the joke, Ben.” 

“Right.” Ben squirms out of his fresh pair of jeans- Thank God they’d both changed into clean clothes this morning- tossing them across the room. “This doesn’t seem fair.” 

“What doesn’t?” 

“You wearing more clothes than me.” 

“Oh.” She grabs the edges of her band shirt-  _ Sorry, Poe, that your gift has to see this _ \- and lets it join his jeans somewhere in the corner. The old sports bra is not what she  _ wanted  _ to be wearing when this happened. She doubts she’d be able to find a better one, to be honest. 

“Holy shit.” He gawks at her chest as though he’s seen the face of God. “I-” He swallows thickly. “Wow.” 

“They’re small,” She tries covering them with her arms; suddenly self-conscious over her body. 

“No,” Ben uncovers them easily. “I mean, yeah, but they’re perfect.” 

“Nice save,” 

He chuckles. “Thanks. I really do like them.” 

His fingers form around a nipple; squeezing softly. Rey bats his hand away. “I’m not into nipple-play.” 

“Oh… good to know. Anything else?” 

“I’m not crazy about anything weird. Just stick to vanilla for now. We can figure out the rest later.” 

He nods in agreement, looking down to where their bodies rub against each other. 

His breath starts quickening when he pulls her undergarments down. The gasp that falls off those plump lips almost sends her over the edge. And he hasn’t even touched her yet. 

“If I’d known I’d be getting some, I would have shaved.” 

Ben shakes his head. “I honestly prefer it this way.” 

“Care to explain?” She cocks her brow in amusement. 

“Because you’re a woman, not a child.” 

“Fair enough,” She looks down at his navy boxer-briefs and almost screams in delight. Finally, some movement. 

Her fingers trail down his broad shoulders, down to his chest, landing on the hem of his underwear. She teases for a moment, letting her fingers play with the happy-trail until he’s close to begging. 

He wiggles out of the garment until they’re both as naked as the day they were born. 

And Rey can’t for the life of her stop staring. 

“I… wow. That’s… yeah. This is gonna be,” She tries finding the right word. Truth is, there is no way to describe it. Ben is hung like a horse. 

“Too small?” 

Is he fucking kidding her? 

Too small would have been a pickle. Not the cucumber that’s dangling between his legs. 

It’s perfect. Veiny, head a little purple, and just the girth is almost enough to make her pass out. 

“No. I’m just worried it won’t fit.” 

He laughs dryly. “Should I- can I finger you?” 

“Okay,” 

His long digits- again, how the seven Hells is all of him this  _ large?  _ It’s like someone played the  _ Sims  _ and dragged the cursor all the way to the right- trail down her body until it’s buried deep inside her. 

The sensation feels strange. It’s been too long. 

It’s glaringly obvious that it’s been a long time for him as well. With even more awkward fumbling- seriously, she could probably spontaneously combust, and not for any good reasons- he moves his fingers in a steady rhythm. He moves them long enough for it to feel something akin to nice. 

The pressure keeps building deep inside her, ebbing and flowing like a river in the moonlight. 

“Ben,” She half moans, half gasps. “I’m coming.” 

“Really?” He exclaims, excited as a puppy. 

_ Fire, dead. Fuel, gone. Orgasm, fleeing like a coward.  _

“Aaand, it’s gone.” 

“Shit. Sorry.” He withdraws his fingers from inside, landing on her sensitive clit. 

“Oh, Phuket Thailand.” The pleasure’s back. He rubs in slow, languid circles, trying to keep himself upright. The floorboards literally shake underneath them. His muscles start protesting loudly. “I’m ready.” 

“Good. I was ready to explode.” He takes a steady hold at the base of his member, giving it a few strokes. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

_ They haven’t kissed yet.  _

The thought pops into her head just as he pushes inside. 

Rey clumsily tries to go for his lips, but he turns his head away at that exact moment. All she catches is a bundle of his hair. 

“Oh,” He turns to face her. “I… Right. We should probably-” 

She can’t stand it anymore. There’s been too many misses and graceless actions. She just wants  _ one  _ thing that’s not awkward. 

For all his clumsiness, Ben’s actually a decent kisser. 

Not too much tongue, not too little. Just the right amount. When his movements still, Rey spurs him on with the heels on her feet. 

He rolls his hips in a gentle pace, moaning into their kiss. 

Rey’s hands wrap around his body; nails dragging down his back. 

“Oh, fuck,” He buries his nose in her neck; stubble scratching against her skin. 

“Harder,” She sighs. “Faster.” 

He complies; setting a harsher rhythm. 

The whole house creaks in protest of their movements, each thrust feeling like the floorboards might give out underneath her naked back. She’ll probably have some bruises in the morning, but Rey couldn’t give less of a shit. 

This was perfect. What had started out really lumbering, turned into the best sex she’s ever had. 

His teeth graze the juncture between her jaw and shoulder, teasing against the sensitive skin. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” He grunts loudly into her ear. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“Keep going,” She’s not gonna last. 

Then again, neither is Ben. 

They’ve been starving for so long. This is the most decent meal they’ve had in ages. It’s too difficult not to gorge. 

Her body starts convulsing; shaking and shuddering against him. Despite the cold air, the sweat drips around them; the sounds of sex filling the room. 

“Ben!” She screams in pleasure. “I’m gonna-” 

_ Ascension… ascension… Hallelujah _ . It’s almost like a seizure, the way her body spasms. 

“Jesus Christ.” Ben breaks away from her like she’s hot lava. He grabs his member; stroking it three times before he spills over the edge, all over her stomach. He grunts loudly before collapsing on top of her. 

When it’s all said and done, Rey finally feels satisfied. 

She doesn’t even bother with the fact that they’re both getting smeared down with both of their fluids. 

It just feels right. 

  
  


* * *

“Okay, the first girl you ever dated?” 

He chuckles underneath her; chest vibrating against her cheek. 

“Sarah Hyde. Freshman year of High school. She kept asking until I gave in.” 

Rey lifts her head from his shoulder, staring him square in the eye with disbelief. “ _ She  _ kept asking  _ you _ ?” 

“Why the tone of surprise?” He almost looks sad. 

She snorts. “I just figured that a teenage boy would be more interested in cooch.” 

He gives her a tired smile. “I was a bit of an acquired taste.” 

“Doesn’t really answer my question.” 

“You haven’t asked one,” He points out jokingly. 

“Fine. Why weren’t you?” 

“Why wasn’t I what?” She smacks his arm. “Alright,” Ben laughs. “I was a bit of an acquired taste, meaning that I was never really sure of their intentions. I thought they were doing it as a bet or something. It never felt right.” 

“So you were paranoid?” 

“Yeah. I was. I always questioned why they would pick  _ me  _ of all people. I didn’t have the best self-esteem. Still don’t, actually.” 

“You should. You’re not half bad to look at.” She teases. 

“You neither.” His lips meet hers in a quick peck. “You’re actually really beautiful.” 

“I know,” She grins. “I’ve been told.” 

“So what about you? The first boy you ever dated?” 

“I don’t remember his name.” Her face drops, becoming somber. “I have a hard time remembering a lot of people these days. They’ve all just become some distant memory.” 

“I know what you mean. I can’t even remember my mother’s face some days.” 

_ Neither can I.  _

“We should probably get some sleep.” 

He nods in agreement. “We’ll leave bright and early tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get stuck in traffic.” 

“Oh, har, har.” She mocks. “Thinking of beating rush-hour?” 

“Something like that.” He kisses her one last time; wrapping his arms fully around her. “Goodnight, Rey.” 

“Night.” She murmurs. 

Rey sleeps better than she has in years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I really don't like the fact that everyone writes smut like sex is flawless. Sometimes, it's just awkward. Communication is the key to good sex, people. (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵) ******


	9. Live Like There's No Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by _Selena Gomez & The Scene. ___

Breakfast isn’t the only thing on the table the next morning *wink, wink*.

Ben begins the day by lifting her onto the counter, pulling her pants down in a swift motion, and dropping his head between her legs.

Sex with Ben quickly turns out to be a religious experience. Rey’s screamed God’s name more times than she has in her entire life. If yesterday had been a trip to awkward-town, this morning is a stroll down sex-bomb avenue. 

And that tongue… 

“I’m coming!” Her legs clamp down roughly around his head; trapping him in place. She's not letting him get away until she gets her fill. Her inner walls spasm wildly, and for a moment she's kind of sad that he's just giving her oral. 

His face glistens with her fluids when he pulls away. “Jesus, that’s hot.” 

“Fuck.” She manages to croak out between labored breaths. “Hey, just a quick question. You see the stars floating around too, right?” 

Ben chuckles. “Sure,” He’s humoring her. The endorphins shooting through her brain dull every muscle in her body. “We should start preparing for today’s trip.” 

“Jesus, man. I just got head from _Lickitung._ My mind is in no shape to make informed decisions right now. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“ _ Lickitung? _ ” 

“Pokémon. It’s got this really long tongue that it-” 

He waves his hands in front of him. “I get the picture.” 

“Not what I meant, but kudos to you and your dirty mind.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Oh… I thought it might have been something sexual.” 

“Debatable,” She answers and hops off the counter. Rey grabs her discarded shorts from the floor and puts them on; shimmying into them like she's auditioning for a position at _Julliard_. The shorts are overdue for another wash. “Do you know if there’s any water around here?” 

“Yeah, there’s a river about a mile down the road. Why?” 

“Hm,” She says pensively. “We should go later.” 

“You’re probably right. We need to refill our bottles before we leave.” 

“True, but I was thinking of washing our clothes and maybe having a bath. I feel like I’ve swum in honey with how sticky I am.” 

Ben laughs. “Let’s go find some water then.” 

  
  


* * *

Rey wishes she could say that they made it off the property that morning. 

_ Wishes  _ _ being the key-word here.  _

The second they’d stepped onto the porch, Ben had pulled his pants down, looked at her with those puppy-dog eyes, and rolled his head to the side. 

Rey had given in like the sucker she is. 

They’d spent their time screwing, sucking, and licking their way to lunch-time. 

Eventually, the energy has to run out. 

“I can’t believe we only started doing this yesterday.” 

She gives a weak chuckle; wiping the sweat off her brow. “Told you it was a good idea.” 

“You didn’t,” He reminds her. “You said people have stupid ideas all the time and-” 

She shuts him up with a long, languid kiss. 

“Did you just kiss me to silence me?” 

_ The jig… guess what? It’s up _ . 

“Maaaaybe,” She drawls as she shimmies back into her pants- but what’s the point, really? He’s just gonna find another creative way of pulling them back down again- and sits down in the old, rusted garden-chair. “So I’ve been thinking,” 

“About what?” He asks, taking a seat next to her. He lits a cigarette, blowing smoke-rings into the hot summer air. 

“About Seattle.” 

“What about it?” 

“Our route, obviously. We both know that the freeway’s gonna be packed with parked cars. We’re not gonna be able to run them through.” 

“True. If we keep driving West through Yellowstone national park, we’ll eventually hit the fork. We need to figure out if we’re going through Montana or Idaho and Oregon.” 

“Why would we take a detour to Idaho?” 

He shrugs. “Might be fewer pile-ups.” 

“I wouldn’t bet my last penny on that.” 

Ben chuckles, remembering Casper. “Well, I’d take you up on that, but I don’t have anything to bet.” 

“Another round of sex?” 

He grunts. “Jesus, kid. Do you want to kill me?” 

“It  _ would  _ be a nice way to go, don’t you agree?” He hums noncommittally. “I figure that Montana might be safer. Although-” She mulls over the options. “Didn’t you say that the Canadian military nuked Iowa?” 

“So? That’s not on our way.” 

“ _ No _ , but Montana might be. Wouldn’t you say the chances are pretty big that they’ve done the same throughout all the border regions?” 

“I would,” He says in agreement. “Though this was months back. People used to sneak past the border all the time back in the days. Who’s to say they wouldn’t do the same now?” 

“Why does that matter?” 

He cocks his brow, giving her _that_ look. “People bring diseases. This is an epidemic, you know? The Mounties wouldn’t have taken any chances with people crossing their border.” 

“Did-” She swallows. “Did you see them shoot someone?” 

Ben sighs, taking a deep drag of the cigarette. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Sort of, anyway. The bombs didn’t spare anyone, alive or dead. I got out of there by the skin of my teeth. I still look over my shoulder sometimes.” 

There’s a small, but a significant premonition. “That’s why you don’t think your family made it, isn’t it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, Washington State borders Canada. Vancouver, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

Her eyes look up at the mid-day sun. “How much of the world do you think is affected?” 

“There used to be at least a hundred flights, maybe more, leaving the U.S daily. I don’t have high hopes for the rest of the world.” 

“Oh." She utters, completely deflated. "So getting to an island wouldn’t be a safe bet either?” 

He shrugs. “Maybe… maybe not. And then there’s the problem with supplies. We probably wouldn’t have enough to last. It’s not like they re-stock shelves every day anymore.” 

_ At all, he means.  _ “I know. Do you know anything about working the lands?” 

He snorts. “Like, farming and shit?” She nods. “Nah. I can barely keep a house-plant alive. They used to come to my house and die, basically.” 

“That’s encouraging.” She states sarcastically. “You did get survival training though, right? In the military?” 

“Yeah. Nothing even close to this magnitude. The goal was always to find your way back to civilization. Doesn’t do much good now.” 

“I suppose so,” 

It’s peaceful here. Serene and far away from society. There hasn’t been infected for miles. If it wasn’t so far off from the nearest city, they could really build a life here. 

Rey can picture it before her. Growing crops, working the fields all day, fortifying the place, maybe even have a kid or two. 

_ Slam the breaks there, Thirsty McGee. Not the smartest idea.  _

If something went wrong, she could die. And she’s in no rush to reproduce. 

Maybe it would be simpler just to throw herself head-first into a horde. She’s only prolonging the inevitable as it is now. Like Ben said… ten years worth of supplies out there. 

Neither of them knows the first thing about being self-sufficient. 

They could always break into a library, steal some books on the subject, though she’s not holding her breath on that. Theory and applying it practically are two different things. 

“We should just have fun.” 

“Huh?” 

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just a thought.” 

“Sex hasn’t been fun enough?” 

Rey smiles, tucking her legs beneath her body. “Your words, buddy, not mine. I just meant…” What did she mean? “We’re never gonna grow old, are we?” 

Silence. Deafening silence.

“Probably not,” He eventually says. 

It’s sobering. The realization that they’re never gonna grow old together. No shuffle, no Sunday afternoon wheelchair racing through the corridors of the retirement home, no swapping out their pills for  _ Vicodin _ … no grandkids. 

Rey takes a deep breath, concealing her tears. “Well then. It’s settled. We’re not gonna worry about survival.” 

Ben snorts. “Yeah, right. It’s imprinted into our DNA to worry about our survival. We can’t just wish that away.” 

“That’s true,” She admits- she’s tried many times. “But we can ignore it. Just spend what time we have left  _ living _ . Go to the Grand Canyon, take a boat-ride through Seattle, You know… touristy shit.” She shifts in her chair, facing him. “What’s the one thing, no matter how crazy, that you’ve wanted to do but was too scared to.” 

“I… what?” 

“Yeah. Anything. You name it, we’ll do it.” 

The cigarette hangs limply from his hand. 

She can almost hear the crickets singing, and it’s not even night. 

“I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle.” 

She points at him wildly. “Exactly!  _ Exactly!  _ Right! We find a couple of nice motorcycles and we ride cross-country.” 

“Okay,” He chuckles dryly, letting out a snort. “And what about the supplies?” 

Rey shakes her head. “Fuck that. It’s not about survival anymore. Just living. We do cross-country, we fuck in every state, and we don’t care about shit.” 

“Until someone ends up dead… or pregnant.” 

_ Ben: 1 - Rey: 0.5 _

“Obviously, we’ll figure that out as we go. I’ll keep better track of my cycle, we stock up on oopsie-pills and super-oopsie pills, and you keep pulling out. See, we’re all set.” 

“Do you remember what I told you a while back? It’s a pretty picture… but that’s all it is.” 

“No!” She flies out of her seat in rage. “No, it’s  _ not _ . We’ll make it happen.” 

“Rey-” 

“Stop. Don’t say anything. Just listen.” He’s quiet for once. “I’m so sick and  _ tired  _ of living in my memories. I miss  _ doing  _ shit. So let’s, for the love of Destiny’s Child, just do something.  _ Anything _ . Just to forget for one moment that we’re stuck in this Hell.” 

“What about the consequences?” 

“They don’t matter. There’s nothing holding us back.” 

He huffs out a dry laugh. “Until one of us ends up dead, and the other is left alone again.” 

“That won’t happen.” She promises. 

“Yeah? And how do you know?” 

“Because.” 

“Because, what?” 

“Because I won’t let it get to that. If you die, I’m out. That’s it… light’s out.” 

You could drop a pin fifty miles away, and its echo could still be heard with how silent it is. 

“You wouldn’t.” He dares. 

“I would. I’m not going out there alone again. I’m not made for being alone again, Ben. I need people. I need  _ you _ .” 

He smirks. “Is that your way of telling me that you love me?” 

“Fat chance,” She teases. “I  _ barely  _ like you.” 

Ben manages a small chuckle. “Fair enough. So that’s it, then? We just live.” 

“Yes,” She lets out a shaky breath. “We just live.” 

Fuck tomorrow. Tomorrow can fend for itself. For now, they’ll only think of the moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hides away in shame because this took so long to post ******
> 
> ****So, it's been about a month since I updated this fic. Well, I'm sad to say that it might be the norm from now on - **sadface **\- since I just started Uni. I'm gonna be super-busy with school work for the foreseeable future, but I'm hoping that I can at least update every once in a while. I don't see this as being an epically long fic either, so hopefully, we're like halfway there.****** **
> 
> ********Also, many thanks and eternal gratefulness for those who left a comment and kudos! I'm sorry I haven't gotten through to answering any of them, but I've been super swamped TT^TT** ** ** **

**Author's Note:**

> **Oops, I shamelessly let my fingers slip and I wrote this. Continuing with the Zombie theme, because I’m trash for apocalypse stories :D**


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